From Among the Dead
by Vrinda81
Summary: The Five-O team faces a devastating blow when one of their own disappears and is feared dead. The truth will shock them ... and you! This is a 2nd repost but, this time, this story is here to stay. It is being beta read by Tanith2011, who is doing a fantastic job of helping me to keep this story on track. Thank you to my readers for your patience and for coming back each time.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**I**

The early morning air floated around softly and swiftly, allowing for Jayna Berringer to feel its freshness and tranquility. It was five o'clock in the morning, and she had already been at work for the past hour. Stakeouts and surveillance were not her most favorite part of her job, but she resigned to that fact that for all that she did, and knew this particular mission was soon going to become clearer to her. It was by watching a suspect for several hours, days, weeks, or months that a significant piece of evidence was likely to turn up that could very well solve a case. It was just a matter of making the right move at the right time. Now, she observed, that right move had just been made.

Jayna sat up as a man stepped out of the bar, walked stealthily towards the gravel road that led to the docks, and kept going. Jayna put her binoculars down, got out of her car, closed the door slowly and silently, and then followed him. The early hour made it easy for her to follow him without anyone getting in the way. The streets were deserted, and the streetlights were still on. She figured he would be watching for any strange men following him, but was not going to expect a woman on his tail.

She had never seen him before, and his thin frame and medium height made him look many men she had seen before. His face was obscured by sunglasses and a blue cap, and his hands wore leather gloves. A navy blue T-shirt, jeans, and dingy white sneakers made up the rest of his outfit. His skin was swarthy and had a five o'clock shadow.

Tha man maintained a brisk pace as he walked down the dock, all the while being as vigilant as he could without looking back. Then, he abruptly turned to his left and headed towards a boat moored to one of the wharfs. He intended to get past it and hide behind the blind spot it created.

Jayna recognized the boat as a white Sea Ray Sundancer, with a black bottom. She continued walking, not wanting to attract the swarthy man's attention. It was then that she heard the first pop; the familiar sound that, as a police officer, she came to know so well. The bullet flew past her and broke the glass in the window of another boat. She took out her gun and returned fire. As bullets sped past, she turned and ran towards the underside of the boardwalk. Louis Palani stood only ten feet away, his gun aimed straight at her.

Jayna fired first, and the swarthy man fired back, missing his target. He turned and ran. Jayna sprinted after him, stopping only when she saw the man had come to a halt and turned around to face her. Before she could act, a blast from the muzzle of his gun sounded, and she was hurled back over the edge of the dock, crashing into the depths of the dark blue water. There was no thrashing about or attempt to reach the surface. Within minutes, the waters became still once more. The man turned on his heels and ran down the wharf.

**II**

Jonathan Kaye, the head of U.S. Intelligence's Pacific Theater, had been busily filling out an assortment of paperwork before he called his secretary to take them away and file be filed. The setup allowed Kaye to conduct official business without anyone knowing, for who would expect the head of U.S. Intelligence's Pacific Theater to conduct business from inside a passenger jet? This airplane-office also afforded him all the comforts of home, even allowing him to function like he was still on land.

"There's a call for you on Line One," she said. "It's Philip Norton."

Knowing that Line One was reserved for the most urgent of calls, Kaye picked up the receiver and pressed the blinking red button. "Yes, Phil," he said.

Norton's voice came over as direct and unemotional, despite what he had to say. "Berringer is dead. Palani shot her sometime around six this morning. She fell into the water, and did not emerge. Palani has been given his next set of instructions."

Kaye sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "All right. Proceed as planned," he said. "Is that all?"

"That is all, Sir. I'll call you when we make our next move. Good day."

"Good day," Kaye replied then both men hung up. Kaye pressed the intercom for his secretary. "Send two agents out to the docks. Tell them to keep a lookout until the police clear the scene and leave."

**III**

Louis Palani sat still, anxious and fearful. His eyes were fixed on the telephone sitting on the table next to him. At any moment, it would ring, and what he did next depended on that phone call. When the first ring came, Palani grabbed the receiver so fast that both the cradle and the table shook.

"Hello?" he quickly answered.

The voice at the other end belonged to the swarthy man in the navy blue cap. "The job is done," he said. "It took two bullets. I know I hit her in the shoulder. I don't know about the other bullet. I watched her as she went into the water. She didn't come out."

"Good," Palani recounted. "McGarrett is going to come looking for me. He knows my address from the information Berringer gave him, but Prather and his boys will be onto me too if I stick around. They were nosing around here last week. They nearly found my tape recorder … "

"You have your orders," the man said. "It's time to make Louis Palani disappear."

Palani straightened up. "Alright, I'll do that. I'll make contact again when it's safe … Good-bye." He hung up. Then, after wiping his brow, he went into the bedroom, got out his suitcase, and started packing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**I**

The black Mercury sped down the city streets at breakneck speed. The dark-haired man behind the wheel tried very hard not to break any rules of the road while still remembering his destination and why he had to be there so urgently. He made it to the city docks to be greeted by a crowd of curious onlookers, who stood watching as the Honolulu Police Department and Harbor Patrol officers searched the area. The dark-haired man got out of the Mercury and weaved his way through the crowd to the younger, curly-haired detective who was speaking to a uniformed patrolman.

"What's going on, Danno?" McGarrett asked.

"Jayna's gone, Steve," Danny Williams replied in a shaky voice to his older partner, the chief of Hawaii Five-O. He tried to maintain his composure, but was in fear of breaking down. Jayna Berringer was one of Five-O's finest detectives, and she was very close to Danny, as well as Steve. "Officer Quon got a call from a couple in a houseboat. They said they heard gunshots and saw her getting hit." Danno pointed to a man and woman in bright-colored sports clothes standing on the dock a few feet away. "They looked out their window, and saw a man shoot Jayna twice. She fell into the water, but the divers haven't found anything."

Steve could only stare at the dock, too shocked and disoriented to respond. The boats, the calm waters, and the people all hovering around ... it didn't seem real. Jayna Berringer, one of his most trusted officers, could be not dead. He refused to accept that.

"Where is she?" he asked Danno, in what sounded like a disembodied voice. It was a question to which Steve wasn't expecting an answer from his second-in-command.

A uniformed officer showed Steve a badge, still in its leather case, inside a plastic evidence bag. The numbers on the badge read 30285 – Jayna's badge number.

"This is all we found," the officer informed the detective. "It was lying underneath the wharf. The tide must've washed it in."

"Oh, God!" Steve gasped, folding his hand into a fist and holding it against his mouth in an effort to keep his emotions in check. _There's no body._ _Maybe she managed to get away, and she wasn't hurt badly_. Steve processed the information given to him and the evidence they had so far. _Witnesses heard two shots and saw Jayna go in the water. Maybe, just maybe those bullets missed. That has to be it!_ _She was – is – a good swimmer._ He couldn't allow himself to think what the other possibility was. Danno placed a hand on his boss's shoulder, concerned that the wall Steve built to contain his emotions would crumble.

"Officer Quon," Danno addressed the uniformed patrolman, "get those people's statements if you haven't already, take them down to headquarters, and have them look through the mug books. I want a name and face for that man who shot Jayna."

Office Quon nodded and turned to go back to the young couple. Danno took Steve aside. The Harbor Patrol captain, a thin, athletic man named Tony Manning, approached them, tipping his hat up slightly so Steve could see his eyes, then said. ""We haven't found anything, Steve. I don't want to get your hopes up, but if she had died, her body would be down there already. She was shot, and if she was bleeding …" he did not dare finish the sentence.

Steve knew what Manning was going to say. The waters around Hawaii and in much of the Pacific were infested with sharks that could sense blood from miles away. However, if there was blood to attract them, there would be remains, yet they had found nothing to prove that Jayna was killed. All in all, it all gave Steve a small glimmer of hope that Jayna had got away, and may not even be badly injured. It was all that kept him together at that point.

"We'll keep looking, of course, and I'll let you know the minute we find anything." The red-headed captain eyed the dark-haired detective. The two had been friends for a long time, and Tony knew Jayna, having worked with her on many cases. It was only made harder for him to lead the search for her, knowing there was a fifty-fifty chance that she might not be alive. Knowing the tough chief of the state police as Tony did, Steve would insist on waiting there, rather than return to the office, till they found anything. "The minute we find anything," he repeated to his friend.

Steve nodded, tiredly, but understanding. "Make sure I'm the first to know," Steve stated, emphatically. He looked out to the sea, thinking of all the mysteries it contained, and the secrets it never revealed. _Could Jayna be another of its secrets?_ He turned and walked away, with Danno joining him by his side.

**II**

The blonde-haired woman sat behind the typewriter, typing with fast precision and accuracy. Her pink-manicured fingernails grazed the keys with every stroke, and when the letter was finished, she pulled the paper out of the paper wringer and placed it in the pile to her right. Then she took another sheet of blank off-white paper, placed it around the wringer, and started typing again. Her icy blue eyes continuously stared at the type levers as they hit the type guide. Three paragraphs later, and the letter was completed. She retrieved it from the wringer, folded it, and slipped it into an envelope, then sealed it and repeated the process for the other letters she typed. Her boss, looking handsome in his naval uniform, strode by, picked up the sealed envelopes and checked the addresses.

"Nice job, Miss Dotsenko," he said. "Your speed typing sure pays off."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Miss Dotsenko replied, her icy eyes turning a deeper shade of blue. Lieutenant Walter Callister, U.S. Navy, tipped his hat to her and went into his office. She knew the closest she would ever get to any special attention from the lieutenant were those brief smiles and compliments of her work. With a quiet sigh, she returned her attention back to the typewriter and resumed her typing.

Inside his office, Lt. Callister opened the safe situated against the right wall. All the papers were inside, where they should be; in the same places where he had originally put them. Callister closed the safe and turned the dial, then picked up the phone and made a call.

"Hello? This is Callister. The safe's been checked and the contents are accounted for. All personnel reported for work. There are no unexplained absences. … Yes … yes … Uh-huh ... Okay. … Thank you. … Bye …" He hung up. Sighing and looking around the room to see if anything was out of place, Callister noted the room hadn't been touched except for the waste paper basket emptied by the cleaning lady the night before. He went to his desk to tackle the pile of paperwork he left unfinished from yesterday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**I**

The halls of the Palace were quiet, more so than usual. Over the past few hours, Steve's senses had become more acute that the sound of the floorboards creaking resonated like thundering drums to his ears as he and Danno walked up the long flight of stairs to their office. Inside, everyone tried going about their business as usual, but the two men could tell that they were thinking of Jayna.

Jenny, Five-O's red-headed secretary, had been trying to type out a letter on which she had been working, but when she looked up and saw the sad looks on Steve and Danno's faces, she couldn't control herself any further. She took out her handkerchief and sobbed bitterly into it then got up from behind her desk and walked as fast as she could out of the office and into the hall. Danno rushed out to comfort her, as Chin Ho Kelly – another of Five-O's detectives – approached Steve.

Steve motioned for Chin to follow him into his office. He took off his coat and tossed it onto the chair behind his desk. Their colleague, Kono Kalakaua, joined them inside. Then Steve let loose.

Steve clenched his teeth and flung a pencil onto his desk blotter. "Dammit!" he exclaimed.

He couldn't bottle his anger anymore. His men knew why: Jayna never hid anything from him, yet here she was at the docks early in the morning, chasing a man who had been supplying her with information on one of Honolulu's most dangerous crime lords. Was the information all fake? Was Palani luring Jayna into a death trap? Or was Palani forced to kill her to show his loyalty to Prather? Steve still didn't want to think that Jayna was dead. He had to keep telling himself that she was alive, that they would find her.

"It's just not like her at all." Steve paced around by his desk, breathing in hard and rubbing his forehead. He looked at the clock. It read eight o'clock exactly. He ran his hands over his head then rubbed the back of his neck as his mind took him back in time. It was only two hours earlier that Jayna had been shot, and an hour and a half since he got the call from HPD. He was asleep, and the ringing of the phone woke him. At first, he had thought he was dreaming when Officer Quon told him that a girl matching Jayna Berringer's description was seen falling into the water off the docks at Honolulu Harbor after she had been shot.

"The last case on which Jayna was working was against Richard Prather. She was talking to a member of his outfit, Louis Palani," Danny began, "and he had been giving us information for the past year about Prather's operation. It was enough to put Prather away for life."

Chin stuck his pipe into his mouth and let out some puffs of smoke. Chin was a father many times over, with a brood of eight rambunctious kids, including two daughters a few years younger than Jayna. He thought of her as a daughter, and was as concerned for her as he would be if it was one of his own children missing, or worse. At this moment, though, he didn't know what words to say that would bring comfort to Steve.

Steve clenched his teeth and looked up at ceiling. "She never did things like this. She was a spy before, but she put away the cloak and dagger when she joined Five-O. She never kept any secrets from me." He was filled with a mixture of emotions – hurt, frustration, shock, disbelief, anger, sadness – and he tried very hard to keep those emotions in check. Danno's entry just then provided a temporary distraction.

"I told Jenny to take a break. She's gone out. Mele is trying not to break down," Danno said, referring to the Polynesian stenographer, who was stationed at the desk in front of Jenny. Steve inhaled once more, and then walked back to where his men were standing. It was time for him to resume command.

"Chin," Steve began, "you and Kono check on Palani. Does he have an address?"

"It's near Diamond Head." Chin put his notebook back in his pocket.

"Officer Quon said the witnesses saw a man of average height with dark hair, in shades, a dark-colored shirt, and jeans," Danno said. "Nothing specific or unusual. They said it happened so fast, that they didn't get a good look."

Steve clenched his fist harder. "It always happens that way!" he cried. Danno made a move to get closer to comfort him, but Steve waved him off. "I'm all right, Danno," he said, but Danno still put his hand firmly on his boss's shoulder.

The phone rang and Steve turned to pick it up. He was greeted by Mele's voice. She sounded calm, but he could hear the sniffles in between words. "Steve," she said, "the Governor … _sniff_ … wants to see you … _sniff_ … right away."

Steve picked up his coat and started to put it on. "Thanks, honey. I'll be right in." He hung up the phone then looked up at his men. "That was the governor," he told them, as he slipped his left arm into the corresponding sleeve of his jacket. "He wants to see me. Danno," he turned to his second-in-command, "go over and search Jayna's apartment. The search warrant is on Jenny's desk. I'll meet you there." The men set out.

Just as the men were leaving, Jenny came back in, with a handful of tissues balled up in her hand, her eyes still watery, and her nose red. Steve put his hand on her shoulder as he passed by, looking at her, to silently ask if she was all right. Jenny nodded and patted his hand.

**II**

Governor Paul Jameson sat solemnly at his desk, trying to finish some last-minute paperwork. When Steve McGarrett entered, Jameson got up and met him halfway across the room. "Hello, Steve," he said, shaking his hand. "I'm very sorry." There were no other words he could think of that could express his feelings. The Governor looked into the steely blue eyes of his state police chief. Though those eyes were trying to convey a tough, cold stare, Jameson could see the sorrow and anguish behind them. He was as fond of Jayna as Steve and the rest of his staff were. He recalled how he nearly dropped the phone when the commissioner of the Honolulu Police Department phoned to tell him that Jayna had been shot.

"I want to let you know that you have my full backing in finding Jayna, and the man who shot her," the Governor told Steve.

"Thanks, Paul," Steve replied. They weren't usually so informal with each other except during very sensitive moments. "I know I always told my staff that I expected the best from them. I would never push them any harder than I would push myself. Jayna always went above and beyond what was expected." Steve was now talking more to himself than to Paul. "She cared about the people she protected. She cared about all of us. There was nothing she wouldn't have done for me, or Danno or anyone else ... and now, I don't feel like I'm doing enough for her!" Steve clenched his right fist and ground it into his left hand, as he spoke those last few words with in anger and frustration.

"The worst is that Jayna never mentioned what she was doing that morning. Jayna never told anyone – not me, not Danno, no one – that she was going to the docks." Steve's fury melted away. The stereotypical male attitude of not showing emotions was overruling his true feelings.

Governor Jameson put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "I think Jayna wouldn't mind you showing that you're human, Steve. It's alright to grieve."

Steve, the stubborn Capricorn goat that he was, continued to hold back the tears. Blinking them away, he said, "I still think she's alive, Paul," he said, unable to stop his voice from cracking, his voice softening. "If she were dead, I'd feel it. I've known her that long, and that well."

Steve thought back to how he had first met Jayna. She was a slender girl, with long, thick, silky black hair framing an oval face, and cascaded down her shoulder blades. Her eyes were large, brown, and dazzling. When Steve looked into them, he was lost in their serenity and beauty, temporarily forgetting all the chaos and turmoil in the world. When she smiled, they seemed to sparkle. She had a tall, well-built, and agile frame that she had inherited from her Indian ancestors on her mother's side. Her physical endurance that bettered most Navy men Steve knew, and there were occasions when he was confident she could surpass even himself. However, Jayna also possessed a coldness and an ability to detach herself emotionally when a situation warranted – no doubt passed on to her from her paternal German and English lineage – and essential on certain operations.

"She was the best at what she did." Steve strolled from the Governor towards the bookcase and glanced at all the morocco-bound law volumes and reference books, their gilded titles standing out from their darker backgrounds. He turned to face the Governor. "Now, it's as though she's disappeared without a trace, and I feel like I'm powerless to do a thing to find her."

"That's not the Steve McGarrett I know," Paul Jameson said, pointing his finger at the state police chief. "The Steve I know would not give up, and would not even allow a negative thought like that to enter his mind. Jayna would not want you to think that way." His voice was very emphatic and forceful.

"You're right, Paul. Jayna would laugh at me if she heard me speak this way." More memories came back, like a flood of water breaking through a dam. Jayna was a foreign language major in college, and went to work as a linguistics analyst for the Department of Intelligence's Pacific Theater after graduating. Jonathan Kaye, the department head, saw more potential in her than in translating Polynesian and Southeast Asian languages, and he encouraged her to join their intelligence program. After successfully going through the training and testing, Jayna was all over the Far East and Hawaii, exposing Communist and terrorist spy rings, arresting Chinese and Japanese gangsters, and catching military saboteurs. Her record was stellar, and Steve had the pleasure of working with her on several occasions, when Intelligence loaned her to Five-O for certain cases. When the chance came to add another member to the team, Steve didn't hesitate to ask Jayna if she was interested, and she in turn did not hesitate to accept.

It was a union that was more blissful than any marriage. The two of them connected in ways that Steve could not fathom. Jayna knew how he thought, and could finish sentences for him. If he had an order to issue, she would have started on it before he could tell her. When it came to watching out for him, Steve didn't have to worry. He trusted her to have his back. He had those same feelings for all his men but, with Jayna, there was something deeper. There was no romantic undertone between them, but he always felt a strong love for her. He didn't know if that love was mutual, and hoped he still had the chance to find out. Those happy thoughts were slowly starting to drown in the deep, dark blue waters off the harbor, the current situation breaking through his reverie. He knew he had to keep thinking that she was alive and would be found, safe and unharmed. It was the only way he could keep going.

"What have you found so far?" the Governor asked.

"Nothing that gets us anywhere," Steve said. "The description of the shooter could match hundreds of people on this island. Chin and Kono are going to speak to Louis Palani, and Danno and I are going to search Jayna's apartment." He stopped, looked at the ground, and tried to suppress his grief once again as his eyes clouded over with moisture.

The Governor patted Steve's shoulder. "You'll find her, Steve. We've been through a lot of scary moments before. This one is no different. We'll pull through. Now, go out there and find Jayna ... and I want to be the first person you tell when you do."

"It's a promise," Steve assured Jameson, then straightened his shoulders, and shook hands with the Governor, before striding out of the office with a vow to fulfill.

**III**

Philip Norton stepped into Jonathan Kaye's "office in the middle of the Boeing 737.

"The plan is working, so far," Norton said. "McGarrett doesn't suspect a thing. He's going through the usual stages of grief – shock, denial, and now anger. I'm waiting for mourning."

"That'll come in due time," Kaye said. "What about Palani?"

"Five-O will question him. He knows what to do," Norton responded. "He's pulling out. If they pick him up, our mission is blown to pieces." Norton uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. His eyes looked strained. "McGarrett is good, Jonathan, very good. He'll get suspicious and keep digging till he finds the truth."

"And that's why you're here," Kaye replied impishly, "to make sure McGarrett doesn't sniff out the truth. I know how headstrong and hotheaded he is. Do what it takes within the law to keep him out of our hair. He can't interfere with this operation, or we've had it – and so will he."

"You know how close he and Jayna were," Norton said. "He practically raised her when she came here to go to school at Manoa. She worked in his office to pay her college tuition bills. He encouraged her to join Intelligence, even giving a personal recommendation, then he asked her to join Five-O. She's not some employee whose existence he never noticed. To keep him busy while we find stomp on Prather's international gun-running is not going to be easy, and with that business with the Russians, we've got our hands full as it is."

"That's the nature of the spy business," Kaye replied. "There is no room for idle hands."

**IV**

Richard Prather was still on edge. He was not resting easy, even though one of the biggest obstacles to his operation was seemingly obliterated. He had to be absolutely sure she was gone. The two men who entered his office were a contrast to his well-groomed, stylish self. The first was a burly Hawaiian called Burt Akila, who some sweat off his forehead and coughed. The second – a scruffy, dirty blonde named Greg Krause – stood next to Akila.

"Palani's skipped town," Akila said. His large, six-foot-two frame seemed imposing to the smaller Prather, but the Hawaiian knew his place and who was in charge. Prather felt no fear of him.

"His apartment is empty, and there was nothing suspicious left lying around. The place was clean, like a cat licked it up," the smaller, lankier Krause added. "The landlady said he paid his rent in full and told her to keep the security deposit. She asked no more questions. She was happy to have her money."

"We also didn't have a lot of time to search," Akila added. "We got word the cops were also looking for him. We had to get out they came."

"No one vanishes like that." Prather scowled. "They leave some clue behind. Speak to everyone on the docks, all your informants, especially anyone who owns a boat or a plane. Palani has to get off this rock somehow …" Prather opened his fist, "and he isn't going anywhere …" then closed it in a tight knot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**I**

Louis Palani's apartment was a landlady's dream: Spotless and intact. There was not a fleck of dust anywhere, the bathroom and kitchen floors had been mopped and waxed recently, and the furniture was all neatly arranged and in pristine condition. The living room contained only a couch, armchair, coffee table, and TV set. There was a round dining table with four chairs towards the end of the room, right near the door to the kitchen. The only appliances on the kitchen counter were a toaster and coffee machine. The cupboards were empty except for some cans of fruit, tuna, and vegetables on one shelf. There was only one coffee mug, two dinner plates, two salad bowls, two soup bowls, and four sets of spoons, forks, and knives. The refrigerator contained a bottle of whole milk, half a stick of butter in the butter tray, six eggs, and a jar of mustard. The bread box on the counter contained nearly a full loaf.

In the bedroom was a bed, another armchair, a desk with a lamp, and a radio. The closet was empty, and the bathroom was also devoid of any personal items. There wasn't even a toothbrush in the toothbrush holder, and the soap dishes didn't even contain soap shavings or soap residue.

"It was likes dis guy wanted to erase any evidence dat he – or anyone – had been here," Kono said as he lifted the pale blue ceramic soap dish off the bathroom counter. "I'm amazed he left food in the kitchen."

"I'm even more amazed he even bothered to clean up," Chin replied. "If I was worried that Richard Prather was going to have a contract taken out on me, I wouldn't waste time cleaning up. I'd hightail it right out of here. What did the landlady say?"

"Palani paid da rent on time every month, like a good tenant, so she minded her own business. He did have a woman come in to do da cleaning once every other Friday, though. She's da regular cleaning lady for dis floor. HPD is questioning her," Kono said. "Palani lived here for six months and always paid his rent in cash. We're checking with da Bank of Hawaii to see if there's a bank account in his name."

Chin peered into the garbage can. "Nothing here," he said. "There's not even a store receipt or junk mail to be found here. I hope Che and his team can lift some prints."

"Look at this!" a forensic technician called out from the kitchen. He pointed to the contents of the garbage can. It contained some ripped up pieces of cardboard that looked like they might have once made up a small box, and a small bottle with a cap. It appeared the bottle was originally transparent, but had changed color to a shade of brown on account of the fluid that it was used to store. The bottle looked like the kind used to mix and store hair coloring solution. Chin could make out some of the fancy lettering on the pieces of cardboard and part of the image. It was a brand of hair color for men with a picture of a chestnut-haired man on the front.

**II**

A man raced up the front steps of the Territorial Building and to the second floor. He slowed to a walk as he entered into the light blue room and flashed a smile at the pretty secretary answering phone calls while she typed.

"Go right in," the secretary told the man. "Mr. Norton is waiting."

"Thanks, sugar," the man replied then walked right into the office.

Philip Norton turned around from a map he was reading on the wall and approached his visitor.

"Welcome back, Palani," Norton said.

"Thanks, Phil," Palani replied, "but I guess Louis Palani has to be retired now."

"You guessed right. It's time to go back to being Patrick Geller." Norton sat down and lit a cigarette. Blowing out a long puff of smoke, he continued, "The next step is very crucial. Once you've dyed your hair back to its original color, shaved the moustache, and ditched the Hawaiian shirts, you can start keeping an eye on McGarrett. He cannot know who you really are or that you are even on the same rock. He can't get in our way. Jayna was his golden girl, and until he finds out what happened to her, no one on this island is going have a moment's peace."

"You can't blame him," Geller said, pushing back some wavy, chestnut locks from his face.

"No, I can't," Norton said, snubbing out the cigarette. "I can only imagine the hell he is going through, but we have a job to do nonetheless. Try to go easy on him, but be firm. Keep him out, but don't use too heavy a hand."

**III**

Steve McGarrett had been in Jayna Berringer's apartment only a handful of times. Each time, it was for business. They would be discussing a case, analyzing evidence, or narrowing down their list of suspects. Seeing the inside of where a person lives can tell much about them, more so than speaking to them. In this case, searching through Jayna's apartment told Steve and Danno volumes more about Jayna than they already knew. They knew her as the strategic, dynamic, cunning former intelligence agent-turned-Hawaiian State Police detective, but they only knew bits and pieces about Jayna as a woman.

The living room walls were painted light sea-foam green, the carpeting was a light gray-green, and the furniture was a hodgepodge of antique, modern, and psychedelic pieces. The latter came in the form of a lava lamp that carried on its fluorescent blue and red illumination. Danno checked out the books in the bookcases, which ran the length of the wall opposite the front door. There was a bar at the end of the room, that was not heavily stocked – save for a bottle of bourbon, one of coconut rum, an ice bucket, and some glasses. Around the corner from the bar, on the right, was a dining table, and beyond that was the kitchen. Sliding glass doors ran parallel to the dining table, leading to a lanai with a nice view of the neighboring buildings, but not so nice a view as to make the rent too high.

Danno's eyes went back to the books on the shelves. If just seeing where a person lives can give a greater insight into their life, seeing what they read can help someone delve into their mind. The books spanned different genres in both fiction and non-fiction. There were paperback detective and spy novels from the forties to the sixties, with their original illustrated covers, as well as the three-in-one Detective Book Club volumes, some dating back to the thirties, in their original morocco bindings. All of Ian Fleming's James Bond novels were present, as was a set of encyclopedias, dictionaries – in English and other languages – and books on ghosts, World War II, and paleontology. Danno nearly smiled to himself, never knowing before that Jayna was interested in prehistoric animals. It almost took his mind off the real reason for him and Steve being there.

As he looked over at his partner, boss, and friend, Danno noticed that Steve's movements were almost robotic. Steve was going through the motions of searching the apartment, but it didn't look like his mind was really there. The first-in-command stared blankly at the items he held in his hand, and then put them back where they were, then turned around and went into the kitchen.

Danno didn't know what he was expected to find on the bookcase, except maybe some hollowed books which contained vital papers, or even a key or photos, which could tell him what Jayna had been doing the past few days. It appeared the living room had nothing to hide.

The bedroom was decorated in royal blue, light blue, turquoise, and creamy yellow. The carpet was royal blue, the walls were light blue, the curtains were turquoise, and the vanity, night table, and tall dresser were creamy yellow. The curtains were tied back with white-braided ropes with tassels dangling at the ends. There were thinner, white curtains with embroidered flowers stretching across the window, hanging from brass curtain rods. Beige vinyl blinds that could be pulled down gave the room its privacy.

The bathroom was a combination of light blue and white, and was clean, except for some small grime stains around the drain in the sink. The medicine cabinet contained the standard toiletries – toothbrush, toothpaste, nail clipper, jar of Vaseline, wrapped bars of soap, bottle of astringent, containers of dental floss, a pair of hair-cutting scissors, and bottles of eye makeup and nail polish removers. The shower housed a bottle of shampoo, one of conditioner, and a loofa. The bathtub was sparkling clean. The bathroom window was closed and locked, and the place had a scent of Clorox and soap. He knew Jayna was big on cleaning, so the smell didn't surprise him in the least.

_Time to check out the bedroom again_, Danno thought. Jayna's makeup case and jewelry box were sitting on top of the vanity. There was a hairbrush, with strands of Jayna's long, black hair still stuck between the bristles, lying next to a container of talcum powder. A large bottle of Chanel No. 5 stood behind them. Jayna wore that perfume all the time, Danno remembered. Often, he would know she was around just by smelling that warm, spicy mist. He also knew that Steve loved that scent, too. Danno pictured her standing in front of this mirror every morning, putting on her makeup, powdering her neck with the large powder puff covered in talcum, and spraying a little of the Chanel No. 5 under each ear and on her throat. The thought made him smile again, but the sadness returned all too soon.

Steve's footsteps into the bedroom interrupted Danno's contemplations. "Nothing in the kitchen," the lead detective told his partner, blankly. "The last time landlady saw Jayna was last night. She said she saw her when she came home from work, and didn't notice anything unusual." He walked over to the bed and sat on the mattress as he continued, "… except that Jayna's rent had been paid – six months in advance."

Danno whirled around and faced his boss. "Where did Jayna get the money to pay her rent so fast?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Steve said, and got up to inspect the desk next to the window. It was an ordinary wooden desk with a wall hutch. Jayna's mail – credit card, electric, gas, water, and telephone bills were piled in different compartments. The drawers contained lined paper, white and manila envelopes, and other standard office supplies. There was nothing there that told Steve anything.

"Nothing here, either," Danno said, opening up the makeup box and closely examining its contents. They were all ordinary cosmetics, and nothing out of the ordinary hidden in them. The jewelry box yielded the same results, but something made Danno stop mid-search.

"What is it?" Steve asked when he noted his second-in-command's hesitation.

"I just remembered," Danno said, "Jayna's cameo necklace." He was referring to the oval-shaped pendant, dangling from a golden chain, which Jayna had worn frequently. The cameo was the silhouette of a woman's profile, facing the right, set amidst a pinkish-red background and framed by a gold-plated casing. It was one of Jayna's favorite necklaces, given to her by her aunt when she was a child, as she had once told Danno and Steve. "It might not mean anything, but I don't find it here."

"And that couple that saw the shooting described Jayna as wearing a necklace with a gold chain and oval pendant," Steve added.

Steve's eyes wandered around the room as he sat on the edge of Jayna's bed. Rummaging through her personal things, he felt like they were … violating her. _Violating_ was not the right word. Steve would hate to think of violating Jayna, even if it was only figurative. However, just to be in her bedroom, touching her most personal belongings, made him feel like he was touching her. He handed back the bracelets that Danno had taken out of the jewelry box, and the younger detective put them back.

Steve bent over and looked at the bed skirt. He got up and knelt down alongside the bed, lifting up the skirt. At first, all he saw were some pairs of slippers but then – there it was, shining despite the darkness. Pulling out a pencil from his pocket, Steve slowly reached under the bed, poking the shiny object with the pencil before he pulled it out. It was a man's wristwatch. There was nothing engraved on the back, and the maker was a well-known, and expensive, designer.

Danno, looking closely over his boss's shoulder, said in surprise, "A man's watch …" He didn't dare continue with the speculations that came to his mind. Steve was upset enough. The expression on his face turned cold. His eyebrows arched downwards, his eyes turned steely, and his lips tightened. Danno was glad he could not read his boss's mind, but he wondered if Steve's line of thinking coincided with Danno's own thoughts.

Steve took a plastic evidence bag from his jacket, placed the watch inside, and handed it to Danno.

"Have Che examine it, every inch of it. Check the serial number and find out who bought it, when, and where," he commanded, the authoritarian tone returning. Danno nodded his head and watched his boss turn away and go towards the window. Steve rubbed his forehead in frustration, and allowed his hands to slide down his face, over his lips and chin, then drop away. He sighed as he stared out at the buildings and the busy streets down below. _Somewhere out there, someone knows the truth._ _Jayna_, he thought, _what happened? Why didn't you tell me what you were doing? What are you hiding from me? _He closed his eyes, warding off the urge to weep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**I**

Richard Prather sipped some wine, then lit a fat, green Havana. He watched the smoke form rings in the air and lifted his glass to his dining companion. The girl smiled with lips coated in red, the shade of poppies. Her long, straight black hair glinted in the dim lighting of the restaurant. They were in a private booth, away from the rest of the afternoon crowd, but Prather still maintained an air of caution.

"To us, Ching-Lan," Prather toasted his glass with hers. "So far, so good. Now, let's hope it all works out from here on end."

The girl lifted her glass to her lips and took a sip. "What's there to do now?" she asked. "Sit and wait?"

Prather leaned in, leering at her. "No, we have much more to do. Remember, we need to build up a case against Five-O. Do you still have that necklace?"

Ching-Lan removed a pink cameo pendant from her pocket. She dangled it from its gold chain in front of Prather. The white silhouette of the woman stood out from the pink background, trimmed in gold.

"I saved it from the first project," Ching-Lan boasted.

"Make sure you wear it for the next one," Prather said, with a sardonic snigger. "Is everything else all set up?"

"It is. We just need to bring in the other participants," Ching-Lan confirmed. "I have a date with a certain U.S. senator this evening at the Ilikai."

"Make it a night he'll remember," Prather said.

A waiter arrived at the table and spoke nervously. "Mr. Prather, a Mr. Otis is on the phone. He wants to speak to you."

Prather looked at the Hawaiian boy – who appeared to be in his late teens – as though it were his fault the romantic interlude was interrupted. Prather set his glass down and followed the waiter to a room in the back. When the boy left him alone, Prather spoke into the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Prather," came the familiar, oriental voice. "I hope I'm not disturbing you." The voice at the other end spoke in a joyful manner.

"Listen, Wo Fat," Prather began. "I didn't say you could call me any time you wanted. Five-O is looking for Palani. If they pick him up, he might talk."

"We have anticipated for that to happen eventually," Wo Fat replied. "If he does not talk, all is well and you need not do anything. If he does talk, however, you know how what to do."

"I most certainly do," Prather responded, icily. "We're putting our necks out too far. McGarrett is practically going to have this island under martial law until he finds out who killed that girl."

"She was getting too close," Wo Fat said. "Five-O was going to have you in the palm of their hands in no time. The only recourse was to get rid of Miss Berringer. She was a thorn in our side for far too long."

"It's one thorn pulled out and several more to go," Prather said.

"We'll get them all out, one by one," Wo Fat assured him. "Is Miss Shen all set?"

"She's ready and waiting."

"Don't let her wait anymore. Allow her to get started. Have her do some rehearsing. The more practice she gets, the more convincing she will be." Wo Fat's tone turned sinister.

"I sure will," Prather replied. "She's put a lot of effort in."

"I'm sure she has. Make sure you contact my assistant Xiaotong when you have finished this phase and let him know," Wo Fat instructed.

"You got it," Prather said. "Is that all?"

"For now," Wo Fat answered. "Good day."

"Bye for now," Prather replied, then put the receiver back on the cradle and returned to his charming companion. He took another puff of the cigarette. "That was your esteemed leader," Prather announced, not all amused. "He likes to check on us at every turn."

"That is his way of making sure we are on top of things," Ching-Lan explained, flashing her pearly teeth and flinging back a tuft of her hair. "After all, he and I operate under a different employer, who expects us to accomplish certain things."

"Let's go check out that suite you plan on using with the senator," Prather leaned in and whispered, a lustful smile on his face.

**II**

Steve McGarrett tried to get some paperwork done, but it was a futile effort. He got up, went to the balcony and stared out at the street. Cars drove by. People made their way to and from work on their lunch hours. Two children walked by, holding ice cream cones and laughing. Steve envied them. He had been their age once, laughed, played, and enjoyed life, never knowing what lay ahead. . Ironically, the only thing that remained unchanged was that he didn't know what lay ahead now, either.

"Steve?" Danno called out, interrupting the top cop's reverie.

Steve turned around. "Yes, Danno?" he asked.

"Philip Norton from the Federal Department is here," Danno informed his boss.

"Send him in," Steve replied, tiredly. He lifted the folder out of which he had been working and tossed it onto a pile on the left side of his desk. Philip Norton entered and Danno left, closing the door behind him. Steve looked up at the tall, brown haired, blue-eyed and weathered-faced Norton. They had worked together on cases before, and Steve knew that Norton had been Jayna's mentor when she worked for Intelligence.

"Hello, Phil, have a seat," Steve said.

"Hello, Steve," came Norton's somber reply. "I'll make it brief. I'm sorry about Jayna. I know how much she meant to you and everyone here."

Steve nodded. "Thank you. I guess I should also be offering condolences to you as well. You were Jayna's first boss." Steve picked up a paper cup filled with cold water and took a sip.

"Thank you just the same," Norton acknowledged, trying to sound diplomatic. "I wanted to know if there was anything I can do to help."

"Thank you, Phil, but we're still trying to figure out what we need to do ourselves," Steve declined the offer graciously, even managing a smile. "If I do need you for anything, I'll give you a call." Since Norton was Jayna's former boss, Steve made sure to familiarize himself with Norton's work and how he supervised Jayna, so he would be better able to help her make the transition from being a spy to being a police officer. However, there was something about Norton which troubled him. It was not that he didn't like Norton outright or Norton had any noticeable character flaws, but some sixth sense told Steve to watch out for him, that he was more than he seemed on the surface. Being Jonathan Kaye's representative in Hawaii, Steve was not surprised to feel that way. He and Kaye had their sparring matches in the past.

"Jayna always said you were the best," Norton replied. "Maybe you won't need my help after all."

"I only hope I can live up to her words," Steve said, "but be on standby, just in case."

"I certainly will," Norton said. "Jonathan sends his condolences."

"Thanks, Phil. You can tell him I appreciate it." Steve managed a smile.

**III**

Maria Dotsenko unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside. She turned on the light switch and quickly locked the door behind her. Putting her purse on the table next to the door, she kicked off her shoes, launching them onto the rug with a soft thud, and headed into the bathroom. She wore little makeup due to the humidity, but was generous with sun block to protect her ivory skin. She washed the hours-old application of sun block off with a face scrub, blotted her face dry with a towel, and went into the kitchen. She turned on the radio and let the sound of music fill her ears as she started to chop up vegetables for salad and sautéed a chicken breast on the stove. The news anchor's voice broke her mood.

"_Harbor Patrol is still searching for missing Hawaii Five-O detective Jayna Berringer,"_ the announcer said. _"Berringer was last seen at Honolulu Harbor this morning, tailing an unidentified man. The man reportedly shot Berringer, sending her falling into the water. She has not been seen since and may be dead. However, Steve McGarrett, the head of Five-O, said in a statement issued today that they are conducting the search for Jayna in the hopes that she is still alive as no physical evidence has surfaced to confirm otherwise. They are also on the lookout for a suspect in connection to the crime, who is described as Caucasian male between the ages of thirty to forty, approximately five feet ten to six feet tall, with dark hair, wearing a yachting cap, navy blue T-shirt, denim jeans, and white sneakers. We will keep you posted with further updates as they become available. In other news …"_

Maria smiled sardonically. _So the great spy Jayna Berringer has met her match?_ _Scratch one off the list for us. _She flipped the chicken breast over in the frying pan and seasoned it with some salt, pepper, and oregano, enjoying the sound it made as it sizzled.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **

**I**

The rising sun shone over Honolulu like a pink shadow, but the bright, cheery color did little to lift Steve's spirits. He paced nervously up and down in his office, running his fingers through his thick hair. He was waiting for Che Fong's lab report on the gold watch, and Danno's findings from Jayna's bank account. With impeccable timing, a knock resounded from the large oak door.

"Come in," Steve said. It was Kono. He entered, followed by Che.

"Nothing from Danny yet, Steve," Kono said, "but Che's finished examining da watch. We traced da serial number to a store called Crawford's Jewelry and Watches on Bishop Street. It's a luxury goods-type of store."

"So who bought the watch?" Steve asked.

Kono hesitated, the uncertainty showing in his eyes. Steve sensed it instantly. "Kono … tell me," he urged sternly.

"Richard Prather," the big Hawaiian detective told his commanding officer.

Steve bit hard, gnashing his teeth, and turning his face away in pain. The watch belonged to one of Honolulu's most dangerous men, an organized crime boss, and it wound up in the bedroom of one of his own officers. He was trying to keep from jumping to conclusions, but the most commonly-pictured scenario was still formulating in his mind, and it was not one he wanted to consider.

"Go on," he said, weakly, trying to hide his fear.

"The fingerprints on the watch belong to Prather," that was Che's entry into the conversation, "and there is a second set of prints."

That last comment got Steve's attention. He turned sharply to face the forensics man. "Do you know whose they are?" he asked.

"No, but we're running them through the national database as well through Interpol. We should get the results by the end of the day," Che replied, sounding certain. "They don't fit any local criminals. We check them with HPD's database, and there are no local matches."

The extra set of fingerprints belonging to an as-yet-unknown person meant that someone else had been near enough to Prather to get that watch from him – someone who was also able to get into Jayna's apartment. Maybe they knew Jayna and hid the watch in her bedroom for some reason. It erased some of the theories that Steve had, though it was outlandish, given how well he knew Jayna. He pictured Prather in Jayna's bedroom, lusting for her, hoping for an intimate tryst, and removing the watch, along with his clothes. He felt so guilty for even thinking that Jayna would get involved with him in such a manner. Jayna would sooner kill Prather than touch him intimately. He knew full well where her affections lay, and they were miles from a lowlife like Prather. Jayna's first love, like his, was law enforcement, and she would never associate with a criminal in any form except to investigate and arrest him. However, there was still that thought at the back of Steve's mind that his top female detective might still have been playing the seductress in order to get into Prather's confidence. He forced the thought out his mind for his imagination was surely getting carried away.

"What about any other prints from her apartment?" McGarrett asked.

"Dere were two others. Dey belonged to two of Prather's men, Burt Akila and Greg Krause," Kono said. "Dey both got records."

"Good work!" Steve said. "We're getting closer." Che nodded, looking somewhat triumphant, but also tired and still somewhat frustrated. He was as fond of Jayna as everyone else, and was also on edge, hoping that whatever physical evidence that turned up would prove, through some glimmer of hope, that she was still alive. He made his exit.

Kono began cracking his knuckles. Steve could sense that there was something else his big Hawaiian cohort wanted to tell him. "What is it, Kono?" he asked.

"Word on da street is dat Richard Prather knew someone in his outfit was snitching on him …" Kono looked away from his boss just then, even though he knew Steve was going to press him until he told him every detail.

"Go on, Kono," Steve replied gently, with slight impatience.

"Prather was seen near Jayna's apartment on Cherry Street, going in." Kono watched nervously for his boss's reaction. Steve's eyes narrowed before he cursed and closed them shut. Kono watched as his boss clenched his teeth and fists, then turned away from him. Not knowing what to say or do, the Hawaiian detective pressed the intercom button to alert Jenny.

"Jenny, get me a glass of water and some aspirin!" Kono shouted. He ran around the desk to put his hands on Steve's shoulders.

**II**

Danno scoured the records of transactions for Jayna's savings and checking accounts. He went back two years, on the off chance that there might be something – a large deposit or withdrawal, maybe – that could shed some light on Jayna's dealings in the months before she disappeared. The bank manager, a slender, gray-suited man named Sheldon Mayer, cooperated as much as possible. Without any fuss, he got the necessary records for Danno to look over, and even brought out Jayna's safety deposit box.

The transaction records from two years ago and last year said nothing out of the ordinary, until he came to last month's records. Jayna deposited a large amount of cash - $5,000, to be exact – in her bank account, but then Danno found a check Jayna had written to her landlord in that amount, dated after the deposit. The memo line stated that the money was for rent, though Jayna's monthly rent was nowhere near that sum.

Danno put that aside and focused on the safety deposit box. After Mayer got a teller to come with a key and open the box, Danno took all the contents out and set them out on the table. There was some fine gold jewelry of either fourteen or eighteen karats which, judging by the style, were probably antiques. The cameo necklace was not among them. There were also some old papers in a large manila envelope. They were birth certificates and other old family records. There was nothing Danno could determine from them that could be linked to this case.

His eyes then rested on the small, white check envelope. It was sealed with a gold sticker at the base of the flap, and on the front, in blue ink, was written "S.M. and D.W." Danno carefully loosened the sticker and opened it. Lifting up the flap, he slipped his fingers inside and pulled out a brass key. There was a number, 518, engraved on it. It resembled a key to a bus, train station, or airport locker. The folded note inside the envelope read, "Locker, bus terminal, Honolulu Airport." Danno knew one thing: That key wouldn't be there, in that envelope addressed to Steve and him, unless Jayna wanted them to find it. There was something she wanted them to see.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Mayer asked, entering the room.

"I certainly did," Danno replied.

**III**

The bus terminal was on the upper level of the international airport on Rodgers Boulevard. Inside the locker was a large, thick, manila envelope. Danno pulled it out and showed it to the patrolman. The envelope was sealed using a transparent packing tape. The patrolman went inside to get a pair of scissors. Once he found one, he came out and slowly started to cut through the tape. Danno pulled back the flap and took out the contents.

They were several eighty-by-ten, black-and-white glossy photos. Danno recognized the subjects in the pictures instantly. He saw Richard Prather, Louis Palani, and a Chinese man in a suit. The Chinese man was very familiar to Danno. He and Steve had tangled with him in the past. In one photo, they were greeting each other, and in the others, they were talking. In a few photos, the Chinese man accepted a small package from Prather. The package was the size of a shoebox and wrapped in brown wrapping paper. The item was wrapped tightly, and tied with string. _Jackpot!_ Danno thought. These photos would put Richard Prather away for good. Illegal arms dealing, plus the other offenses for which they had evidence would lock him up in the state penitentiary for life. That he was paying off none other than Wo Fat, China's top spy – for that was who the older, Chinese man was – spelled doom for the gangster. Danno's elation was only temporary. His thoughts went back to Jayna. That she was not around to present this evidence herself made the moment bittersweet.

After looking at thirty or so such photos of Prather and Wo Fat, Danno pulled out another, with a different – but very familiar-looking – background. The photo was also in black and white, but he recognized the cozy interior of Jayna's bedroom. The man and woman on her bed were oblivious to the camera in some photos. The woman had her back to it, straddling the man in an erotic fashion. The man lay flat on his back, his face obscured by the woman's body. Her bare back was covered by long, straight, raven hair. Her body was slender and well-built, the arms thin, but strong, and the legs long and shapely. In some of the photos, she looked right into the camera, leering and smiling wickedly. The face was familiar, too familiar. Danno felt like a knife had gone through his heart.

The patrolman also looked stunned. He hadn't expected to see anything like this when they opened the locker. In a daze, Danno handed him the photos. The patrolman shook his head.

There were ten photos in all, of the woman and man. He recognized them both – Jayna Berringer and Richard Prather. Danno clenched his fists tightly, trying to overcome his mixed emotions of shock, anger, and betrayal. He now knew what the watch under Jayna's bed meant. However, the second-in-command thought, Steve does not know about these photos. Danno wondered how long he could keep it that way.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

**I**

The booth towards the rear of the restaurant was close enough for Danno for him to be able to see the bar and the entrance, but not so close that he could be heard. When he called Chin and Kono and to tell them to meet him there, Danno was afraid that Steve would be around to overhear and insist on coming along. Now, as Danno showed the two men the photos, Chin nearly bit into his pipe and Kono, who was usually able to maintain his composure, stared at them in shock.

"This is not our Jayna," Kono managed to say after a few minutes. "She'd never do such a thing."

"Then let's find some way to explain how this isn't her," Danno said. He took a gulp of his ginger ale and coughed. "Why did Jayna have them in her safety deposit box to begin with? The envelope was addressed to Steve and me. Why would she want us to see these?" He rubbed the sides of his temples.

Chin took out his pipe and took a long smoke. "It could be that these are revealing more than they seem," he surmised. "What would Jayna gain from leaving some risqué photos of her for you and Steve to see when she's not around? It would obviously upset us and damage her reputation, not to mention that of Five-O." He gestured with the pipe. "Jayna's features are similar to those of a lot of girls on this island - slender, with olive skin and long black hair. Maybe one of them got together with a man to create these photos. Use your imaginations." Chin spread the photos out on the table. "We've seen more bizarre things than this. It wouldn't be too hard for someone to go into Jayna's apartment, take some photos of it, or memorize the layout, and then recreate the room somewhere else. They could then easily fake these photos with a man and a girl who looks like Jayna. The question is, if it isn't Jayna, who is the girl in the pictures, and where were these photos taken? And how did Jayna get her hands on them?"

"Louis Palani was giving Jayna information for our case against Prather," Danny said. "He might have found them and given them to her."

"That's something Palani will have to explain, if we ever find him," Kono replied, dourly. "Not only that, are there more copies of these, and who has them?"

"We'll get Che to analyze the paper and images," Danno said. "If there are copies of these photos lying around, they'd better not wind up on Steve's doorstep."

**II**

Senator Walter Haynes thought he struck pay dirt. He found this oriental doll that was more than willing to show him a good time. He watched her curvy hips with carnal anticipation as Ching-Lan Shen poured him a drink from the champagne he had Room Service send up. She stealthily took out a small tube that contained a white powder and sprinkled some into the other glass. Haynes didn't notice. He was looking at the ceiling, smiling with ecstasy. Ching-Lan turned and walked towards him, then handed him the drugged glass.

"Cheers," she said, holding up her own glass.

"Cheers," Haynes returned the gesture of a toast, "to China. May they send more China dolls like you over here!" He downed the champagne in three sips. "Now, how's about some fun?"

Ching-Lan was not in any hurry to enter into an embrace with the senator. He was not a repulsive man, but she did not find him attractive, either. He was tall, and somewhat stocky, with salt-and-pepper hair and gray eyes that studied her with lust, and he looked out her lustfully through gray eyes. His triangular face, Greek nose, and lantern jaw made him look similar to a matinee idol, but his lecherousness made these appealing qualities fade. She encountered it all-too well when they were in the elevator and when they made his way towards this room, when Haynes had put his arm around her and allowed his hand to wander to her nether regions. . She had pushed her personal discomfort aside in order to play the part of seductress and succeed in her mission.

"Come here, Sugar," Haynes said, "or would you prefer that I call you Lotus Blossom?" his gray eyes gleamed. He took off his jacket, untied his tie, and started to unbutton his shirt. _Any minute now,_ Ching-Lan thought, _he'll be asleep and I can get away from him._

"Either one is fine," Ching-Lan said. She prayed the drug would take effect soon. She unzipped her dress and let it drop to floor. It pooled around her feet and she stepped out with elegance and grace. She unclasped her bra and dropped it as well, revealing two golden breasts with erect tips.

"Come here, honey, give Walty some of that," Haynes said, gesturing for her to come towards him.

Ching-Lan removed her panties and stockings, and then her naked self approached the senator with dread and loathing. His hands felt like thorny vines creeping all over her as he examined her body. They squeezed her breasts delicately, and Haynes leaned in to kiss the valley in between. Ching-Lan's last feeling of hostility and holding out was gone. She had completely given in to Haynes, but Haynes was not going to be conscious long enough to enjoy it. He couldn't keep his eyes open and he began to tremble, before he fell back on the bed, his hands were still fondling Ching-Lan's breasts and in a final desperate attempt to hold onto them. The Senator looked into Ching-Lan's eyes one more time, knowing what she had done. Ching-Lan could only smile and blow him a meaningless kiss.

**III**

"The photos were printed on ordinary photo paper, that you can buy in any drug store or supermarket," Che told Danno. "I had the photography experts look these over, and they found some stuff that is very telling." He picked up one photo and showed it to Danno. It was an enlargement of the headboard on Jayna's bed. "The police photographer and I went back to Jayna's apartment and took this picture." He showed Danno another enlargement of what appeared to be the same headboard. "This one is from the photos you found in Jayna's safety deposit box. From examining the one in Jayna's apartment, we know that's made of wood. The headboard in this second photo doesn't have the same grain patterns that can be seen on the one in Jayna's bedroom."

Danno held the two photos up, side by side. He could now clearly see the difference in the grains, just as Che had noted.

"That in itself isn't much to go on," Che continued, "but there other inconsistencies found in the apartment." He showed Danno some more photos. "These are photos showing the walls, ceilings, and furniture in Jayna's bedroom shot at different angles. Look at the tassel on the window." Danno looked at the thick, silky tassel that held one of the curtains back. He recalled their brilliant white color. Che showed him a second photo of a similar tassel. "This is a close up of one from the photos you found. Note how the tassel is slightly thinner than the ones in Jayna's bedroom. They are manufactured by a number of different companies and can be bought in any discount or department store, but it's plain to the naked eye that these are two different tassels."

"So you think that someone recreated the room, like Chin suggested?" asked Danno.

"It looks like it, but there's more. Look at some of the smaller items – like the bedside clock, the pillows, and the rug." Danno looked at these objects in both photos. He noticed the clock and pillows were similar, but not entirely alike. One of the pillows – though the same color – had a fringe around it. It's counterpart in the photo of Jayna's actual bedroom did not have such a border, otherwise the pillows were the same color and size. The other pillow, in Jayna's bedroom, is made of a satin texture. The one in the phony bedroom is corduroy." He pointed to the clock on the nightstand. "The clock in Jayna's bedroom is rectangular-shaped, with sharp corners, whereas the one in the fake bedroom has rounded ones. It would be next to impossible to find the exact same items as the ones Jayna had, so they had to make do with similar ones, but given the shock of the subject matter, no one would stop to notice the differences," Che dropped the scientific façade for a moment, "and I know Jayna."

Danno nodded, tiredly. The last few days had taken a toll on all of them, and now he was only starting to feel its effects. "Steve hasn't been down here, has he?" he asked. Che shook his head.

"Thankfully, not while we were examining these," he answered. "He may come down at some point. I'll make sure these are safely hidden." He gathered the photos and put them back into their respective plastic sleeves. "There is one more thing, though … we did see some kind of strange markings on the back of one photo – the ones of Wo Fat and Prather. They were done in lemon juice, and had to be held up to the light in order to make out what they were."

"What are these markings?" asked Danno. He pointed to a set of characters under it. They were in Russian:

**ледяной ангел**

"It could be Russian, but I can't be certain. We can get someone at the university to translate it," Che said.

Danno examined the photo on whose back Russian words were written. On the surface, it looked like the others, but there was a slight difference – a tall blonde woman who stood off the side, behind Wo Fat, watching the proceedings. She was only in that one photo. However, judging by the angle at which the photo was taken, it was clear the photographer wanted to get her in the shot. The camera was positioned to focus in on her and Wo Fat was at the right side of the photo, while Prather was not in the shot at all. The woman leaned against a pile of crates, her arms folded across one another protectively, her hands clasping at their opposite elbows. Either she was cold and trying to trap in heat, or she was nervous. Either way, Danno could not blame the woman for her discomfort, being near two slimy characters such as Wo Fat and Prather.

Her hair was pulled back, with some strands sticking out around her long, angular face. Her eyes had this faraway look which was not in synch with the uneasiness her body displayed. Her fingers were long, accentuated by long, almond-shaped fingernails. Judging by the number of crates that stood alongside her, the woman was very tall, maybe six feet or a little taller. Danno could easily picture her walking down a runway or doing a screen test in Hollywood, but her association with Wo Fat and Prather denoted a different, more dangerous occupation.

"Jayna wants us to see her." Danno showed the photo to Che, pointing out the woman. "Whatever the words on the back mean, they must have something to do with her."

"I'll get this to the university as fast as I can," Che said. "We can run the photo through the computer system and see if it matches any criminal records."

"Make a copy, so I can do a separate search," Danno said, squinting in suspicion. "Something tells me this woman is not our ordinary criminal."

**IV**

Jenny stopped typing and stared at the clock. Eight p.m. It had been two hours since Kono left to meet Danny and Chin. Doc Bergman had been in to see Steve and told him to rest for a while. Doc knew Steve well enough to know that urging him to call it a day was no use, especially now. The typing was a futile effort. Jenny only managed to get one paragraph finished. She got up and went into Steve's office. As she expected, her boss was not lying on the couch, but seated at his desk going through some paperwork. Jenny sighed and wandered over to him.

"Steve," she said gently. "Doc told you to lie down."

Steve didn't seem to pay attention. He continued to fervently fill out each form, and put them into different piles.

"Steve …?" Jenny said again, trying to get his attention. After what seemed like an eternity, her boss looked up.

"Jenny? You're still here? It's late. You can go now." He put his head down and went back to work.

"I'm not leaving, nor until you do." Jenny brought out the authoritarian in her with those last words. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, waiting for Steve's response.

"You know I can't leave now," Steve said, gravely. He lifted his head up slowly and tiredly. He knew he couldn't convince Jenny, and if she felt he was not physically fit to carry on the rest of the day, she was right.

"Working yourself to the point of exhaustion isn't going to help you find Jayna," his secretary said.

"I just can't take a break now," Steve replied. "I owe Jayna that much."

"What you owe her is to look after your health." Jenny went over and rubbed Steve's shoulders. "You're no good to her – or us – if you work yourself to death."

His soft spot for Jenny took over, and Steve put down his pen. "Alright, you win." He rubbed at his temples and yawned. "It's just that I feel useless." The frustration was filtering into his voice. "There are so many things that don't make sense … Palani … why was Jayna following him? What was she doing? Why didn't she tell me about it?" Steve pounded the desk. Jenny continued the soothing massage, and her boss started to calm down a little more.

"I'm sorry, honey. I just can't think straight anymore." He ran his fingers through his thick dark brown hair. Jenny squeezed his shoulders, and then gently let them loose. Steve got up, went to a filing cabinet, and pulled out the file on Richard Prather. Jenny shrugged and sat down.

"He's been in Honolulu for fifteen years," Steve said, reading from the file. "Whatever a typical gangster has done, he's done it: Gambling, prostitution, drug dealing, swindling, suspected in several murders and kidnappings, but no one was brave enough to testify. Louis Palani was working for him, then came to Five-O with information on an illegal casino Prather was running. He gave us photos and names of some famous patrons – all from Honolulu's social register." Steve walked towards the couch were Jenny had gone to sit. "Jayna had been meeting with him off and on, whenever he had more evidence to give. Prather would contact her here and she would go to meet him. We were fine with that …" he continued to read through the papers, spreading them out on the coffee table. Jenny picked up a few.

"It looks like the trail ended when Jayna stopped meeting with him," she said. She pointed to the last page in the file, a report from Jayna dated three months earlier, detailing her last meeting with Palani.

Steve's anger was returning. Jenny didn't know what to say or do at that moment. She knew all-too-well how Steve felt about Jayna. There was no romance between them, but they had something deeper than a mentor-protégé relationship. Jayna could be one of the coldest people on Earth, Jenny remembered, especially when dealing with criminals, but her compassionate side was very evident, when consoling victims or when one of her colleagues was in danger, just like Steve. Jenny could see when Jayna looked at Steve, those cold brown eyes lit up with warmth. Jenny was certain, there was only one man who had Jayna Berringer's love, and that was Steve McGarrett. She was an independent sort, not a feminist shaking off any association with men, but an individual trying to take care of herself and not depend on anyone. She was not close to her family, and from what Jayna told him of her childhood, was not quick to make new friends. Only when she entered high school did she start to open up more and make friends, and the same in college, but she retreated into her shell again when she started working for Intelligence. It was one of the reasons Steve thought it best for her to join Five-O. Jonathan Kaye and Philip Norton could be kind when they wanted to be, but their way of doing business didn't always sit well with Steve.

"You're thinking of that watch under her bed?" Jenny asked.

Steve didn't answer. He looked affectionately at his secretary. "Yes," he replied, his steel-blue eyes now darkening to resemble the ocean.

"Someone put it there. That's all." Jenny spoke softly.

"I know I shouldn't think that way but … Richard Prather! The man's scum of the earth! And he was in Jayna's apartment … her bedroom …" Steve was on the verge of another fit of rage. Jenny had never seen him that way before. She was about to get up to comfort him, but Steve held back the tears and resumed pacing back and forth. "Maybe someone planted it there like you say, but who, and why?"

"Someone who wanted us to think that Jayna wasn't loyal," Jenny replied. "What would you expect from Richard Prather?"

"Nothing but that," Steve said. "Jenny, I'm going to pay a visit to the big man himself, tomorrow, and when I'm through with him, he's going to regret ever coming to Hawaii." There was anger and malice on Steve's face but then, it gave way to an impish smile, and Jenny saw her boss's old self returning.

**V**

The tall, blonde-haired woman strode casually down the street, keeping close watch out of the corner of her eye at everyone who passed. She stood one head taller than most of the tallest men who passed her by, and was the object of their intrigued and beguiled stares. However, the woman simply ignored them as she went on her way. Her tweed skirts swayed effortlessly as her long legs stepped one in front of the other, her low heels tapping in a clickety-clack on the concrete sidewalk.

She walked past Iolani Palace, stopping to look at the ornate building. _They're all inside, just waiting for me to strike, but they don't know it yet_ …

She adjusted her sunglasses and watched entrance. A black Park Lane pulled up, and a young, handsome man with thick dark hair in a blue suit stepped out. He skipped up the steps to the entrance and disappeared inside the palace.

_Steve McGarrett, chief of Hawaii Five-O,_ the blonde recited to herself from her mental files. _I'll be ready and waiting._

**VI**

"The Navy knows there's a security leak somewhere at Pearl Harbor," Jameson said. "They planted some false evidence about the placement of some of their submarines and surface ships, and that information was leaked to the Russians."

"How did they know it was leaked?" Steve asked.

"The Russian sent their ships to those waters near those fake points. An American submarine picked up their positions," Jameson answered. "That cinched it for Naval Intelligence. With your background with them, you'll have this case cracked in no time. Lt. Callister, Admiral Douglas, and Commander Norwood will be there to help you. It's just information gathering and surveillance work. Lt. Callister will brief you on the other details."

Steve could tell from his old friend's tone of voice and face that there was more to Governor Jameson assigning him to this job than his background and expertise. Steve opened his mouth as if to speak, then look at Jameson suspiciously.

"Spill it, Paul. What is this all about?"

Jameson knew not to prevaricate with Steve. "I think that whatever is going on at Pearl Harbor has something to do with Jayna's disappearance." Steve was all ears. He looked on intently as the Governor continued.

"One of Jayna's Intelligence cases involved a Russian spy ring that was suspected of being Richard Prather's clients in the gun-running operation. This was sometime in the mid-sixties when the Soviets and the Chinese were still in cooperation with each other. The name of the spy is not mentioned in the files I got from Intelligence but it is a woman, that much is certain, and Jayna saw her."

"When and how?" Steve asked, concern and fear taking over him.

"Jayna tracked down this spy and nearly captured her," Jameson answered, "but the spy got away, and Jayna continued to search for her, but never got near enough to catch her again."

Jameson handed Steve the file on the case. It was the typical declassified file: names and places covered up with black ink, and many details missing. The spy did have a name, though: the Ice Angel.

"The Ice Angel?" Steve said aloud. "Is that some code name?"

"It appears so," Jameson replied. "There's very little information there that can shed light on her true identity. She was careful to stay in the shadows and have others put themselves out in the open."

Steve continued reading. The Ice Angel was suspected in many espionage incidents in Hawaii. She was working for a translating agency that had a contract with the U.S. Navy to translate those codes and messages obtained from the wire taps in the Pacific. She was also suspected of being the coordinator of a group of military and civilian personnel recruited to translate and turn over this information to the Russians. The woman was never identified by those arrested when the operation was exposed. None of them had seen her or knew who she was. The people who had done the recruiting were arrested and serving sentences in federal prison.

"These people were translating communications gathered by the Navy and NSA's network of listening posts, aircraft, and ships," Steve read aloud, "and this went on for a year." Needless to say, the Five-O chief was stunned.

"It caused significant damage by giving the Soviet Union's government details on both the targets and the sources of U.S. spying operations. Such information would have allowed the Soviets to block the eavesdropping or to provide false and misleading information to U.S. Intelligence."

"And Jayna broke up this operation?" Steve asked.

Jameson nodded. "She was a translator for Intelligence, after all," he said. "She was planted there from the beginning, and reported on the activities of the other employees. She gave Intelligence the names of those who were manipulating the messages and providing us with false information. When the time was right, Naval Intelligence and the CIA moved in for the kill."

"That doesn't explain how Jayna knew the Ice Angel," Steve countered.

"Read on," Jameson advised him. Steve did. The last few pages of the report summed it up: The managers of the translating service were questioned, and denied that they were working for anyone. By tracing phone calls made from the agency, they found that they had a contact at the Soviet Embassy, who had conveniently departed for mother Russia before she could be questioned. Jayna and her partner at the time, Patrick Geller, intercepted the woman at the airport, but the woman managed to make her escape. Jayna and Patrick were the only two people to ever see her.

"Patrick Geller," Steve recalled. "I met him once, when Jayna joined Five-O, but I didn't see him again."

"Jonathan Kaye says Geller is on assignment somewhere in the Far East," Jameson said. "They are going to contact him and warn him about the Ice Angel, but they are not concerned about her going after him. They've got agents there to look out for him, since he is still in Intelligence."

"Jayna wasn't, or at least we thought she wasn't," Steve said bitterly.

"Regardless, Louis Palani shot her, not the Ice Angel," the governor reminded him. "As far as we know, this was all mob-related, but the Ice Angel's name came up in the investigation this time. There may be a connection, or there may not be."

Steve put down the folder and continued his suspicious stare at his boss. "What does this have to do with Jayna's disappearance?" he asked, anger and defensiveness overcoming his voice.

Jameson was hesitant. A few seconds passed, then he said, "The Russians may have killed Jayna."

Steve's eyes opened wide with terror. "How do you know that?" he asked, his voice now shaky.

"Senator Haynes's investigation found money in overseas bank accounts. They traced it to banks in Moscow and elsewhere in the Soviet Union. The bank accounts were in the name of several Russian government officials. There is no doubt the Soviets were investing in Prather's operations. We have no proof they ordered the hit on Jayna, but that connection, along with the suspected espionage at Pearl, tells us this goes deeper than a gangster wanting a police officer out of the way. That alone would be a foolish move. Prather would know that killing one police officer is not going to stop the investigation against him, but only make our case stronger."

"It's getting more complicated at every turn," Steve said. He wasn't sure what to feel now, but shock, disbelief, and fear were strong contenders.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**I**

Sen. Haynes was still feeling groggy from the night before. He ambled down the stairs to the front door as fast as he could, but every step felt like walking one mile. He only remembered having one drink that afternoon, at the hotel, with that girl … He wondered what happened to her. She was gone when he woke up.

The doorbell rang once more, and before Haynes could open it, he recognized the shadowed form of Steve McGarrett standing outside, through the frosted glass panes. Haynes hurriedly opened it, knowing Steve could only be here on urgent business, and ushered him in.

"Sorry about that, Steve, but it's the servants' day off and my wife is out of town," he apologized. He led Steve into the library.

"I'll make it brief," Steve said, putting his hands on his hips and giving Haynes the same suspicious look he gave the governor. "What is all this about Prather getting money from the Russians?"

"We did some checking. I hired some private investigators who specialize in this kind of work. They found that Prather some of his higher-ranking associates had Swiss bank accounts with amounts equaling millions of dollars. There were also accounts in the Cayman Islands, and some islands in the South Pacific. We traced the money to accounts in Russia, but the trail ends there."

"What about the names on those Russian accounts?" Steve asked. "Did they belong to government officials?"

"The names on those accounts were the names of some Soviet ministers, but that doesn't get us any closer to the truth. The Soviets will deny knowledge of it." Haynes slumped onto the couch, still unable to gather his equilibrium. He rubbed his forehead and groaned.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, sitting next to him.

"I just had a rough night, that's all," Haynes said, careful not to divulge the true source of his condition. "I'll just take some aspirin and it'll be gone."

Steve seemed to accept that answer, though something about the scene kept Steve's suspicions aroused. Nonetheless, Steve had more pressing issues than the reason for Sen. Haynes's hangover.

"If Prather was involved with the Russians, and they were buying guns from him, then they might be why Jayna is missing," Steve said, his voice creaking as he held back tears. "Prather is not going to be home free by killing one police officer. There'll be others to take Jayna's place. That would only make our case against him stronger."

"The photos Williams showed you of Prather getting money from Wo Fat should do the trick," Haynes said. Steve was in deep thought.

"I'm not sure what it is," Steve surmised, "but Jayna had to have been onto something else, something far more serious than illegal arms-dealing. Someone wanted her dead other than Prather, and used him to get to her. Jayna worked in Intelligence and investigated Soviet operations in Hawaii. One or more of those agents might have been in contact with Prather, somehow found out about her, and asked him to kill her."

"Then why use Palani to do it?" Haynes asked. "He was in as dangerous a position as she, if not more so, being the informant and all. There are a lot of blanks to fill in. Palani was some local hood. You saw his record. It's too much of a coincidence that Prather would ask him to be the hit man."

"The witnesses say they saw Jayna following Palani, so he had to have been leading her somewhere," Steve said. "It could have been a plan on his part, to put himself in Prather's favor." Steve leaned in closer. "I want to see all that information your private investigators found."

Haynes reached for a glass and water pitcher on the table. "You'll get everything, I promise. I only hope it leads you somewhere. Jayna was a nice kid. I'd hate to see her meet such a gruesome end."

"It may not be the end, yet," Steve reminded him. "They haven't found her body, so I'm clinging onto some small glimmer of hope that Jayna's still alive."

**II**

Norton dialed Kaye's number. Kaye's aero-office was still parked at the airport. Kaye was doing to leave Hawaii after a few days. He was in town just long enough to see Norton off on his latest assignment.

"Kaye," he said, picking up the receiver after one ring.

"I spoke to McGarrett today," Norton said. "He's not taking it well, but bearing up. I hope this isn't going to break him. You know how close he and Jayna were."

"If we play our cards right, Phil, Steve will come out of this all right. We have to be very careful," Kaye replied. "Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't suspect a thing, and nothing will happen to him."

"I just got word that the Governor's got McGarrett working on some project at Pearl Harbor," Norton added. "That could cause trouble."

"If it does, you know what to do," Kaye reminded him. There was something sinister in Kaye's tone, and Norton shuddered at the thought of what it meant.

**III**

The tall blonde waited patiently in the silent room. She was surrounded by filing cabinets and stacks of boxes containing packages of typing paper and typewriter ribbons. It was not a glamorous place for meeting a contact, but this was not glamorous work. She twirled the silver chain around her neck calculatingly, careful not to get it twisted, for the metal was delicate and expensive. It had become an unconscious habit of hers to twirl it around so, and one she was nowhere close to breaking.

Then a man entered. He was of average height, with wavy brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a snug-fitting tan suit with a tie that matched his eyes, and walked with urgency.

That was Maxim Vorontsov, an attaché at the Soviet Embassy, and the woman's contact. They exchanged the usual greetings, then Vorontsov got down to business. He handed her a small canister the size of a lipstick tube. The woman pulled off the cap and took out the reel of microfilm inside.

"It's everything from this week," Vorontsov said.

"Thank you, Comrade Maxim," the woman told him. She put the microfilm back inside the canister. "I hope your sources have been discreet. There is an investigation by the navy going on."

"They are being careful," Vorontsov told her. "That is why we may not be getting all the information that comes in all the time. They have more guards around now."

"We'll get by," the woman replied. "They have added the chief of the state police to their roster now."

"McGarrett?" Vorontsov asked. "With him around, we won't be able to do anything."

"That is my worry," she said. "I have my instructions, and McGarrett will be dealt with the minute he poses a threat."

"It is not just him, you know." Vorontsov spoke warily. "This island is crawling with all these investigators." He leaned against a pile of boxes, the sunlight from the horizontal blinds creating an illuminating striped pattern on his suit.

"It is nothing we have not seen before," the woman said. "In my line of work, it is perfectly normal." She smiled and ran her hand along his jawbone, close to his ear. "It is also normal for me to dispose of such investigators when they interfere with my work. McGarrett will be no different."

"One of his officers was murdered. They haven't found her body, but she is certainly dead. It's been all over the news," Vorontsov reminded her. "I've heard McGarrett is protective of those with whom he works. He will not rest until he finds who shot the girl."

"That is not our worry," the woman spoke causally, twirling her necklace again and gesturing with her pink fingernails. She spoke with all the ease of a woman instructing a baking class. For all she calm she showed, Vorontsov made up for it with his nervousness. "Such is the price they pay for their spying on us."

**IV**

"Richard Prather's more loaded than I thought," Danno said, looking at the file on Prather that Haynes provided. "He's got more in these offshore accounts than he can get from his local operations."

"And yet we can't just bring him in," Steve complained. "Manicote said there is no hard evidence."

"Not yet," Steve corrected his partner. "Haynes was reluctant to produce all this when he got it because the money can't be traced directly to any specific sources, and Prather has not touched any of it. The only connection is his name on the receiving accounts."

"How does it tie in with Jayna?" Danno asked. He had a hunch, but he could let on to Steve, not just yet.

"If the Russians were lining Prather's pockets, and Jayna knew – either from Palani or another source – then she had to go. She'd be a threat to them, but that would depend on what she found out … but eliminating her would not stop the investigation."

"The Soviets would not care about that. They're too big for a state police unit to go after," Danno pointed out. "Plus, they had a local hood do it, and the blame would go to him. Their hands are clean, someone else takes the blame, and we're busy trying to find her killer."

"It's all just supposition, Danno." Steve rested his chin on his hands, thinking. "Prather might have ordered he hit himself, with no pressure from the Russians, and ordered Palani to do it as a test of his loyalty, and we're running around circles involving the Russians, but maybe they are involved, but we haven't found that connecting thread …"

"What kind of thread?" Danno looked curiously at his boss.

"The Ice Angel," Steve said.

"Who is that?"

"A Russian spy who was involved in that Russian translating agency case a few years back. There was a spy ring operating an agency that translated Russian codes and messages for U.S. Naval Intelligence," Steve answered.

"Got a real name for her?"

Steve shook his head. "All Governor Jameson knows is her code name," he said. "Jayna saw her, as did her partner, and now the Ice Angel is back in town. The problem is we don't know who she really is or what she looks like."

"What do we know? She isn't connected to any of this money the Russians paid Prather. At least there is nothing to connect her with it."

"Maybe instead of going at it by an unknown angle, we should work with the angle we do know," Steve replied. "Prather will deny everything, and Haynes's own investigation only got so far. We go back to square one: Louis Palani. Was he just an informant, or something else?"

"We know he's pathologically clean," Danno commented. "Chin and Kono said his apartment was spotless. It was as though no one ever lived there."

"How about the landlady or the neighbors?" Steve asked.

"Either the neighbors never saw him or they just said, 'Hello,' and that was it," Danno answered. "The landlady was just happy that he always paid the rent on time."

"How did he pay it?" Steve was trying to drum up some more clues.

"With cash or a check," Danno told him. "The checks were drawn on a legitimate bank account, in the name of Louis Palani. Chin checked it out with the bank. It was all legit."

Steve got up and walked around. "This is all too cozy," he said. "Palani shoots Jayna and disappears without a trace, and there's not a single detail about him that's out of place. His apartment is as clean as a whistle, he paid his bills on time, no one said anything more than one word to him, and he just a close friend of ours and skipped town." Steve bit into his knuckle.

Danno shivered. The thought of those racy photos in the airport locker and that he didn't tell Steve about them made him more edgy then before. He couldn't come clean about them now. It would upset Steve too much, but the right time to tell him came and went. He should have showed them to Steve when he showed him the other photos of Prather and Wo Fat.

"Palani could not have gotten far away," Danno encouraged. "This island was on lockdown, after all. All flights were checked, and no boats got away without the Coast Guard inspecting them. That means he's still here."

"Still here, but very good at hiding," Steve replied. "He's right here under our noses, and we're none the wiser."

"They did find that bottle of chestnut hair dye," Danno replied.

"So now Palani has given himself a makeover." Steve walked to the window and stared out. "Now we have to look for man with chestnut hair instead of black."

That was when Che entered. He had a smile on his face, which told Steve and Danno that he was on to something.

"What is it, Che?" Steve asked.

"There were some hairs in the garbage can as well," the forensic scientist said. "They were on a brush that comes with the hair dye. The hairs were black but, get this – the hairs were dyed black. They were originally a brownish-red shade, then dyed back, and then dyed back to chestnut. Louis Palani had been in disguise all along."

"But his criminal record checked out," Danno said. "I did the background check myself."

Steve picked up the file and showed it to Danno and Che. "It checks out," Steve pointed to the photo of Palani, "and that is the man we knew as Louis Palani, but the birth certificate, driver's license, and prison records all indicate a man with black hair and blue eyes. They wouldn't put black as his hair color on his driver's license and prison records if it was dyed."

"The fingerprints on the comb also match Palani's," Che added.

"… and unless he was dying someone else's hair, Palani put was not who we thought he was." Steve rested his chin on his fist. "Make sure HPD knows to look for man with reddish-brown hair matching the rest of Palani's description."

"Got it," Danno said and hurried out.

"Good work, Che," Steve patted Che's shoulder.

"Hopefully, there'll be more." As Che spoke, his brown eyes gleamed.

**V**

Admiral Douglas, Commander Norwood, and Lt. Callister were typical Navy men – dedicated, professional, and by the book. Callister, being the youngest of the three, seemed gentler and outgoing, but he yet to be the see the strife and struggle the other two officers had, as well Steve McGarrett.

They greeted Steve with the usual pleasantries, then got down to business. They were organized, and their objective was clear.

"Some of our ships detected other vessels in the area. When we checked on the wire taps for messages from the U.S.S.R., we found their ships were in the area, in very close proximity. It happened far too many times for it to be a coincidence," Douglas said.

"Why would the Russians give themselves away like that?" Steve asked. "That could only mean they didn't know we were eavesdropping on their logistics messages."

"If this wave of spying continues, they'll soon know we're listening in and block it," Norwood replied. "If they know where our ships are going to be and when, then they will undoubtedly know we're able to hear all their messages and codes and the locations of their ships. They may even know now."

"Do you have any idea who's behind this?" Steve asked. "There has to be someone on the inside."

"We have some suspects, but we can't accuse them without any proof," Callister said. "There are at least ten different people in the communications department we suspect, and we've had them followed and done thorough background checks on all of them, but nothing has turned up."

"That's why we called you in," Norwood said. "We've read your file with Naval Intelligence and Hawaii Five-O, and you're the man for this job."

"Did Governor Jameson give me that strong a recommendation?" Steve asked, his tone turning light-hearted for the first time in days.

The naval officers laughed. "No, Steve," Douglas said. "There's another reason, one which will interest you greatly. Jameson told you about the Ice Angel?"

"He did, but just her code name. He didn't know anything else about her."

"We don't know her true identity, either," Douglas said, pulling out a brown cigar and lighting it, "but we know her M.O., and it's the same as in that earlier case your woman Berringer worked on when she was with Intelligence."

"As any good spy, the Ice Angel was careful not to let her identity be known, and left her cohorts behind to take the fall. Some were afraid to talk, even with protection, but some did tell us this: the Ice Angel used the name Anne Fergus, obviously an alias, and she was just a name on an invoice."

"So is there any evidence this woman exists?" Steve asked, getting impatient.

"There is," Douglas said, dropping ashes from his cigar into an ashtray. "You've heard of Project Azorian?"

"The Russian nuclear submarine," Steve answered. "I remember reading about it when it was found."

"There was a lot you didn't know about it." Norwood motioned to the guard to turn off the lights. Once they were out, Callister pressed a button a remote control, there was a click, and a photo appeared on a large screen in the front of the room. Steve recognized the stock photo of the Soviet Golf-II Submarine K-129. It was a nuclear submarine invented by the Soviets. Only two years earlier, in March of nineteen sixty-eight, the submarine sunk fifteen hundred and sixty miles northwest of Hawaii, killing its entire crew. What was not reported to Steve was exactly how the CIA knew of the sub's sinking, how it sank, or its exact location sixteen thousand and five hundred feet underwater. Despite his connections with the intelligence community, Steve was never given that information. He always suspected that the U.S. Navy was responsible for sinking it and, carrying nuclear missiles, he shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if the sub's mission was to launch those missiles at Hawaii. It was likely that the Navy's SOSUS, or Sound Surveillance System, picked up the sub's presence and newspapers and books were reporting as such.

_Just what did Jayna have to do with it? _Steve was confused.

"The Soviets are undoubtedly looking for that submarine, trying to salvage it before we can, and they will have their agents in the area to try and find out what they can," Norwood said.

"As of now, only a select group of people in the intelligence community and the White House, including Nixon and Kissinger, know about the operation," Douglas added. His cigar was now half its original length. "It's important that we get to that submarine. The diagrams for those nuclear missiles, code books, and other important documents might be inside."

"How does Jayna fit into all this?" Steve asked.

"Jayna was involved in an intelligence assignment last year which had her monitoring certain Soviet agents who were on this rock." Douglas blew some more puffs of smoke. Steve was starting to breath in. He abhorred smoking but had to put up with it from superior officers. Since they outranked him, there was nothing he could except hope the smoke would drift somewhere else and not to his nose.

"According to her observations, one of them might have been the Ice Angel, and her description matches that of the woman who was running the translation agency. Jayna saw her on both those occasions. She described a tall, Caucasian woman, at least six feet two inches tall or more. There are not too many of those in Hawaii, and since Jayna had seen such a woman of that description four years earlier, she recognized her again."

"It's all still guesswork," Steve countered. "Do you have any cold, hard facts?"

"You've found fingerprints belonging to an as-yet unidentified woman in Jayna's apartment, haven't you?" Norwood asked.

Steve was taken aback. They didn't report this information to anyone outside of Five-O.

"And what if we did?" he asked.

"We know you did, Steve," Norwood replied, "because we saw the woman who went in. It was the Ice Angel. We identified her from Jayna's description. Like the Admiral said, women over six feet in Hawaii will stand out."

Steve didn't know what to say then. If they had all the answers, they didn't need him. "And what else do you know about Jayna that haven't told me."

"Just that if this woman was able to get into Jayna's apartment, there was something in it she was trying to find," Douglas said.

"We searched the place, and there was nothing that would be of interest to you," Steve shot back. He was losing more patience by the minute.

"No, we figured you wouldn't or, if you did, you would be reluctant to hand it over," Douglas said. "No matter. What we do know is this woman was after Jayna or something she had, and Jayna might have been a marked target by the KGB."

"That would only work if Louis Palani was also with the KGB," Steve countered again.

"Palani wasn't, but Richard Prather did business with them," Callister revealed.

"This gets better by the minute," Steve said. "How do you know all this and I don't?"

"Because your sources could only find out so much," Douglas said. "We had our own and they dug deeper. Prather sold weapons to the KGB, and they had their agents here keeping tabs on him and his outfit to make sure they were legit. The KGB agents posed as Russian mafia members, which is how Palani did not identify them."

Steve sighed and shook his head. With every minute, he was finding out more about this case than he bargained for.

**VI**

She lifted the print from the waterbed and stared at the image. Ching-Lan Shen mentally congratulated herself on her handy work. She had successfully taken one photo after another of her pretending to engage in sex with Sen. Haynes, all while the senator was in a deep stupor. It was a good thing the drug lasted long enough for her to get dressed, collect her equipment, and leave. If Haynes remembered her face, it was only as a painted collection of phony smiles and alluring stares. She was certain he would never find her or identify her now.

The last photo was ready and Ching-Lan took it out and examined it. She blew kisses to the camera, her breasts in full view with only a thin silk sheet to cover her body below her narrow hips. _That one should get their attention! _

She took the photo and hung it from the line. She then went back and examined each of the photos, selecting which ones she would use for her next project. She went down the line, picking out each one based on content and shock value. The photos still needed to dry, and they had time. She smiled sardonically as she turned and left.

The bald Chinese man who met her outside greeted her with the same smile. "I take everything is to your satisfaction?" Wo Fat asked.

"It turned out better than I thought," she told him. "We have enough to make Haynes back off, and then there are those other photos I took."

"We will use those when then the time is right," Wo Fat told her. "Right now, we need to take care of Senator Haynes, then when he withdraws his case against Prather, McGarrett will be sure to continue the fight. That is when we put the rest of your work into action."

"I hope it gets the results we want," Ching-Lan said. "The price will not be cheap."

"I have always planned for such occurrences, Ching-Lan," Wo Fat assured her. "Someone will pay dearly – but not us."

**VII**

"So he's clear," Steve threw down the file on a naval officer on the top of a stack of other folders. "That's it for the naval personnel." Steve watched as Lt. Callister got up off the window sill where he sat. Callister was a tall and handsome young man, built with sculpted muscles, his head topped with a tufts of strawberry blonde hair, and eyes as blue as Steve's. He had a sparkling smile and a contagious enthusiasm that Steve found hard to fight, even when he had so much else on his mind. Callister threw himself into scouring personnel files for possible security threats. Going through every detail of every base employee's life didn't seem to daunt him. _Maybe it's because this guy's young and has not been on the block long enough to experience any major tragedies,_ Steve thought. _I hope he never does, but in this line of work, that will be impossible._

"There's got to be a weak link somewhere," the lieutenant said. "If it's not one of the officers, it's got to be one of the civilians." He gestured to the pile of folders with the information on civilian employees.

"Here's your half." Steve took the top half of the pile of folders and handed it to Callister. The phone rang, and Callister picked up the receiver.

"Lt. Callister," he said, "… yes … okay." He wrote something down on a notepad. "Thank you. Bye." He hung up. He ripped the page off the notepad and put it in his pocket.

In response to Steve's inquisitive look, Callister quickly said, "Just one of the Captains informing me of some staff meeting."

"Don't you just love those?" Steve said as he flipped a page in the file he was reading. "Just what exactly are we supposed to find?"

"Any information that is questionable," Callister said. "Everyone's financial records are in there, as well school and college grades, employment records … we're supposed to check for anything out of the ordinary."

"So far, everyone is ordinary." Steve closed the file and put it aside, then took out another file. The name on the label read, "Maria Dotsenko." He flipped it open and read the application she filled out when she applied for her job. A Russian national, born in Moscow in 1940, been in the United States since 1950, became a citizen in 1955, and worked in office jobs at various companies, both private and government, since graduating from high school in 1959. Clean record, no arrests, no credit card debt, no husband, children, or even pets, lives alone, and pays her rent on time. _Why doesn't Callister ask her out?_ Steve wondered. The folder gave detailed information on Miss Dotsenko's hobbies and pastimes. She likes to go to the beach, go dancing, and even named the Midnight Orchid as one of her favorite clubs. Steve's teeth clenched and his fingers tightened his grip on the papers as he read those words. The Midnight Orchid was owned and operated by Richard Prather.

"Is something wrong, Steve?" Callister asked.

Steve had forgotten himself for the moment, and came to when Callister spoke. "No, um, no, nothing at all. Nothing's wrong." He continued reading through Maria's file, trying to forget Richard Prather for the moment. The rest of Maria's file yielded nothing suspicious, but the thought of her enjoying a night of revelry at the Midnight Orchid remained in the back of Steve's mind. It was a longshot but, given the connection, did she know anything about Prather or Jayna's disappearance? She may never have seen Prather at all. Steve was clutching at straws. He could not just go and question her based on merely being a patron of Prather's business. He was looking for leads everywhere he went, and it was driving him crazy.

As if he read his mind, Callister said, "You can take a break if you want."

"No, Doug, I've got to keep doing this. If I stop now, I'll break my concentration and never be able to get back on track." Steve wiped some sweat off his hands.

"You're still thinking of Jayna, aren't you?" Callister asked.

"Give me a reason not to," Steve replied. "Her shooter is still running loose out there, and she's still missing."

"Has Harbor Patrol found anything?" Callister asked.

"No, not yet," Steve said.

"Then it's safe to say she isn't underwater. Maybe she got to land."

"Then she would have contacted me," Steve said, starting to get upset. "She might have memory loss, but no hospital has reported having any patient matching her description. Danny and Chin checked the morgues on Oahu, and the morgues in the other islands reported no corpse fitting her description. I don't want to think she's dead, but where can she be?" Steve's emotions were flooding back, and his stoicism managed to win over this time and he calmed down.

"I'm sorry, Steve," Callister said, putting his hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Don't be. You didn't do anything wrong." Steve patted the lieutenant's hand.

"If it's any comfort," Callister began, "Harbor Patrol searched further beyond the waters around the docks, and found no evidence that a body was ever there, not even any bone fragments. You'll probably get the reports from Manning today."

"Thanks, Doug," Steve said. "Perhaps no news is good news."

"Wasn't Jayna in Intelligence?" Callister asked. "I remember having met her once before."

"Yes, she was," Steve answered. "She was an interpreter, and then a field agent. She did some assignments with Five-O, and I asked her to join when we needed to add to the team." Steve smiled for the first time that day. "I never regretted that for one minute, not to even to this hour."

"I have no doubt you wouldn't," Callister said. "Commander Norwood said you sing her praises all the time."

"Jayna didn't think she deserved it," Steve said. "She always downplayed herself. That's how humble she was." His eyes went back to Maria's file. Then he remembered the Midnight Orchid. "Doug …" Steve was searching for the right words. "It says here that Maria likes to go to the Midnight Orchid … did she ever mention that to you, or did you ever go with her there?"

Doug shot Steve a dubious stare. "I wouldn't be seen within a one-mile radius of that dump. It's a hangout for criminals. I only know Maria goes there from having seen it in her file. Where she goes when she's not at work is none of my business, unless she's doing something criminal herself, but there doesn't seem to be any other connection apart from her being a patron there. You think it's something serious?"

Steve didn't pay much attention to Callister's words at that moment. He was formulating his own ideas, encouraged by a gut instinct which told him something wasn't right. Just to give a reply, he said, "No, just something that got my attention. It's probably nothing important." He put Maria's file aside, on the pile of civilian folders he already checked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**I**

"The lettering on the photos is from the Russian alphabet," Che Fong told Danno. "We had a professor from the University of Honolulu decipher them …" he turned on the projector. On the screen, illuminated in large lettering, were the words, "_**ледяной ангел**_" and then the English translation, "Ice Angel" underneath.

"It's a lead," Danno said, "and Jayna speaks Russian, so it fits, but who, or what, is an Ice Angel?"

"It could be a code name for a spy, or an object, like a special type of gun or other weapon," Che deduced.

"Jayna worked in Intelligence before, so maybe it has some connection to one of her past cases," Chin suggested.

The other men nodded, but they knew it would not be an easy task to figure out. It would involve going into Jayna's personnel files from that time – files which are still classified. Whatever way they did it, they could not let Steve find out. Maybe finding the identity of the Ice Angel would tell them what the photos meant, and why Jayna left them for Danno to find. They were certain the girl in the illicit photos was not Jayna, but they could not prove otherwise. The girl looked similar to Jayna in height and build but, as Danno thought about them, the woman's face was somewhat obscured by dim lighting, making her facial details less clear. Because of the nearly identical bedroom and similar body and hair, Danno instantly jumped to the conclusion that it was Jayna. They had to give those photos another thorough examination. Until then, showing the photos to Steve now would kill him.

"This makes for two mysterious women in this case," Danno said, exasperatedly.

"They could have found a similar necklace to Jayna's cameo, or had one made to order," Chin said, smoking his pipe and gesturing to the phony bedroom photos. Jayna wore that necklace so frequently that a lot of people saw it and identified her with it. It would be natural for someone to think that, if they saw a girl with similar features wearing the same piece of jewelry, that it was the same girl. Have Prather seen going into Jayna's building, plant his watch there for you and Steve to find, and then take these photos with a girl who resembles Jayna – wearing a necklace similar to hers – and you've got a good frame up going."

"It could be," Danno said aloud, thinking to himself, "but we need to find that girl …"

**II**

The fat, green Cuban roll of tobacco was freshly lit, the tip still scorching from the flame. Richard Prather let a loud puff of smoke escape from his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, letting the fumes permeate the room. The buzz from the intercom interrupted his reverie.

"What is it, Sheila?" he asked his secretary.

"Steve McGarrett is here to see you," a woman's voice responded.

"Send him in," the gangster grumbled. He put the cigar down in the ashtray and leaned forward, anticipating the chief of police's entrance. Prather was not to be disappointed. Steve McGarrett stormed into the room like a hurricane decimating a serene beach. He pounded the ground as he made his way inside, stopping right in front of Prather's desk.

Steve's blue eyes were icebergs, staring coldly at the man whom he believed to be responsible for Jayna's disappearance. If it were possible to kill someone with a single look, Steve could have accomplished that just now. "What's your game, Prather?" he questioned, icily.

"What are you talking about?" Prather asked, incredulously.

"Stop playing games with me, Prather," Steve said, the chill never leaving his voice.

"I'm not playing games, McGarrett." Prather spoke with a hint of sincerity, maintaining a casual nature.

"You know what happened to Jayna Berringer!" Steve persisted, his words wracked with pain.

Prather shot back cold glances at Steve with angry gray eyes. "Look, McGarrett, I'm sorry that she disappeared, but I had nothing to do with it. If I had, I wouldn't have her shot into Honolulu Harbor."

"Then what would you have done?" Steve demanded, getting up and leaning over Prather's desk. "Dump her into Muana Loa Bay in cement boots?"

Prather snatched up the cigar and took a few more puffs contemptuously. "You're treading on thin ice, McGarrett. I could sue you for harassment!"

"Dot it, and then explain this!" Steve took out the plastic evidence bag containing the gold watch. He held it out for Prather to see. Prather could not stop his jaw from dropping open. He recognized the watch instantly.

"Where did you get that from?" he asked in a tone of indifference, as he tried to mask the surprise that had earlier shown on his features.

"This was found under Jayna Berringer's bed," Steve shot back, pointing to the watch, "and I want to know how it got there."

"I don't know how it got there, McGarrett, and believe me, I've never been anywhere near your girl's bedroom."

"There's no doubt it's yours. We traced the serial number to Crawford's, and they confirmed that you bought it there. There's no getting around that, but this watch didn't wind up under Jayna's bed all by itself." Steve picked up the plastic bag and waved it in Prather's face.

"I'm telling you, McGarrett, I don't know anything about how that watch got there. All I can tell you is that I lost it, or someone stole it." Prather's voice was rising in both volume and pitch. Steve could see in the other man's eyes that there was fear, not of being found out, but fear that came from not knowing, from being caught off guard. _Was he telling the truth?_ Steve put the bag back into his pocket. His insides were still on fire, and he was not ready to cool off just yet.

"You're in this deep, Prather. I'd like to see how you get out of it," Steve warned. "Just watch your step. There's nothing you can hide from me. When the time is right, we'll come back here with search warrants and find what we're looking for. … Until then, expect sleepless nights." He didn't wait for Prather's reply but turned on his heel and stormed out.

Prather sat motionless, the smoke from the cigar accumulating in a haze around him in a foggy mist.

**III**

The silence of Jayna's empty apartment made Steve shiver as he walked through it again. The last time he was here, Danno was with him and it didn't seem as lonely and heart-wrenching. From the looks of the place, one would never think it was the home of an ex-spy-turned-detective. The place had a very comforting and warm atmosphere. It was the only warmth Steve could feel now. He looked around the living room, at the many paperbacks and morocco-bound volumes perched on the bookshelves, at the landscape paintings, the soft furniture … and it reminded him that Jayna was not around to enjoy these things anymore. _They would find her. Jayna is alive. There's nothing to prove otherwise._ Steve instantly berated himself because he knew had to keep thinking positive. He suddenly felt the need to sit down. He sank into a turquoise armchair. The room was starting to spin around him. It was all too much for Steve to take ... so many unanswered questions spinning inside his head, making him dizzy.

He got up and went into the bedroom. The thoughts of what might have happened there upset him, but he knew they shouldn't. Jayna was a grown woman, and his only relationship with her was as her commanding officer – and her friend. However, he wouldn't stand for her letting someone as decrepit as Richard Prather into this room.

The photo of Jayna and Steve – she wearing a navy blue evening gown with synthetic crystal beading around the neckline and he in a tuxedo at the Governor's Annual Ball – was sitting on Jayna's dresser in an elaborate silver frame. That photo meant something to her, Steve thought, and it made the events of the last few days seem like something from a nightmare. The girl who was so affectionate and loving to the people with whom she worked would never – even in the line of duty – take a criminal into her affections.

Steve knelt beside the bed and looked under it. There had to be a more plausible explanation for that watch being there. He shone his pencil flashlight around the perimeter, into the underside of the mattress, the bed frame, and the ground. There was only a pair of bedroom slippers and a cardboard box. He pulled out the box and opened it. There were photos of Jayna with him, Danno, Chin, Kono, Jenny, and others from the Five-O staff taken at numerous social events over the years – the office Christmas party, the annual Memorial Day picnic, and the Governor's Ball. The photos brought back many happy memories, and made Steve long to be able to return to those times, to take him away from the pain he felt now.

Steve put the box back under the bed and resumed his search for something – something for which he didn't know. The dresser drawers revealed nothing interesting, and Steve went into the closet. Pulling out the raincoats and jackets, Steve searched the pockets and found nothing more than loose change and store receipts dated several months back. The purchases were for standard groceries and department store items. The closet was empty now, Steve having extracted and inspected each item of its contents, and he now cast his eyes on the floorboards. Two boards appeared loose. He bent down and, using a screwdriver he retrieved from the drawer in the nightstand, he pried one board loose. A small manila envelope lay underneath. Steve picked it up and opened the flap. Inside were three strips of microfilm. Steve sank back on his haunches. _What did this mean?_ he wondered. _Was this why she disappeared?_ Steve wouldn't know until he had the film analyzed. Now there were more unanswered questions.

_Jayna,_ he thought, _where are you? Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me what you were doing? Why did I have to find out this way?_ He tried to suppress the tears but, amid the loneliness, they won out this time. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed bitterly. He cried for not knowing what happened to his friend, but also for the trail of secrets she left behind. Right now, Steve wasn't sure that the trail would ever end.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**I**

The smell of orchids drifted through the dining room of the Midnight Orchid. The white flowers adorned every centerpiece and wall decoration. The hostess greeted some customers, a party of four, and escorted them to a table. After handing them their silverware and menus, she wished the customers a pleasant evening, and went back to her place in the front.

Near the stage, a piano player tickled the ivories in the form of a jazz tune, and bartender busily prepared drinks and set them on the counter.

Prather was in his office, smoking his way through a cigar, the smoldering ashes of which were collected in a crystal ashtray on his desk. In his hands were a set of glossy black and white photographs, depicting the full extent of Ching-Lan's night with Sen. Haynes.

"Good work, Lotus Blossom," Prather said, turning the side of his lip upwards in a smile. "I liked the makeup job."

"The photos are all in black and white," Ching-Lan laughed, "so how can you tell?"

"I can still make out the rouge and lipstick." Prather pointed to her face in one photo.

Ching-Lan flung her head back, letting her poker straight locks fall about her shoulders and back. She clasped her hands together, allowing her red-painted fingernails to meet. She seated herself in a chair opposite Prather.

"Thank you," she replied. "I tried to make it as true to life as possible."

"You still had that makeup on when you left the hotel?" asked Prather.

"Yes, that way, no one would recognize me," she answered.

"I'd love to see the look on Haynes's face when he sees these." Prather laughed, tossing the photos onto his desk. "He's going to have a lot of explaining to do when he tells Manicote and McGarrett to back off in their investigation. They'll get suspicious, and he'll have a tough time keeping quiet about these."

"It's really going to put a halt to his plans to take down organized crime," Ching-Lan added, with a devilish smile.

"Speaking of McGarrett, what about that special gift you made up for him?"

"He'll get it in due time," Ching-Lan reassured him. "Wo Fat says to wait. The time is not now."

"We'll be giving the guy too many shocks, but he's not at the top of my hit parade." Prather laughed.

"Just what did happen to Jayna Berringer … and Louis Palani," Ching-Lan asked, a serious tone taking over her voice.

"How should I know?" Prather asked. "All I will say is that it's a blessing in disguise. Berringer was getting too close. That's how Haynes and McGarrett were able to develop an iron tight case against me. She found out something, and it resulted in all those raids. That put McGarrett so close on my trail that he could have been my shadow. Someone had the guts enough to take her out. I only wish I could shake his hand." Prather laughed.

"So he kills her and disappears as quickly as he came?" Ching-Lan asked.

"If you killed a cop, you'd disappear fast, too," Prather said. "The police work overtime to catch cop killers. I never ordered any hit on Berringer, but it's nothing given how tough Five-O and HPD is. There won't be anything for McGarrett to get from me." He tapped out some ashes from the cigar into the crystal ashtray, increasing the pungency of smoke fumes. They were making Ching-Lan's eyes water and she started coughing.

"Sorry about that," Prather apologized and got up to open a window. He opened it a few inches, still keeping the blinds down.

"What's important for us to do now is make sure Haynes gets derailed." Prather turned back to face Ching-Lan. "Make sure he gets these in the mail within the next two days."

"It will be done," Ching-Lan affirmed.

"I wish I could be there when McGarrett gets his," Prather said. "We'll hit him where it hurts." He clenched his fist tightly.

**II**

District Attorney John Manicote cleared his throat as he formulated the next words to come out of his mouth. Senator Haynes stared sternly at the D.A.

The Senate Special Committee on Investigating Organized Crime was continuing their pursuit of Prather, and this one of many hearings where evidence was being presented and evaluated. It was headed by Senators Walter Haynes and John Oishi. So far, Hawaii Five-O had been successful in fulfilling the committee's purpose, but with Jayna and Palani both disappearing, Steve and Manicote wondered if they would be effective in getting an indictment against Prather.

Steve sat in the row of benches behind his friend, watching and listening as intently as Manicote described every detail of information Jayna procured from Palani. However, Steve's mind started to wander. He tried not thinking about it, but he couldn't avoid it. Maybe it was not the way it seemed, that Jayna got away. She wasn't struggling to stay afloat somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. She had been shot. She wouldn't be able to swim around that long without losing so much blood. Since her body wasn't found, she had to have made it to land_. If she did, though, where was she?_ She was shot twice, as the witnesses said. She had to have gotten medical attention. They saw her fall into the water after the second shot was fired. Maybe Palani missed, and Jayna wasn't injured – at least not by any bullets? The thought gave Steve a sliver of hope.

His consciousness took him back to the hearing, and Manicote's sharp, dynamic voice. "Prather has undoubtedly been using his nightclub, the Midnight Orchid, as a front for drug trafficking and prostitution," Manicote said. "We even have a witness who will testify that she worked for Prather in the capacity of a waitress at the Midnight Orchid and has information on certain operations that were carried out. She left when she felt her life was threatened. We also have other witnesses who are former employees of Prather's who served as drug couriers and even some former clients of his. They are all testifying of their own free will, but in return for protection as the law allows."

The witnesses were collected over the past few months of investigative work by HPD and Five-O. It took much reassurance on their part to get these people to cooperate. Steve was amazed that they were all still alive and in one piece after all this time. The first witness entered – a young Polynesian girl who was recruited to serve as a "hostess" for male patrons at the Midnight Orchid. She was sworn in and Sen. Haynes started questioning her.

Steve rose and walked out into the hallway. He leaned against the wall to steady himself, then lowered his tired frame onto a bench outside the door. He was rubbing his forehead when he footsteps scurrying towards him, getting louder as they drew near. He recognized the taupe-colored pants of his second-in-command, Danno.

"What say you, Danno?" Steve asked, not even looking up because knew the sound and presence of his assistant so well.

"News from Che," Danno replied.

"Let's hear it," Steve said, motioning to his friend to sit next to him.

Danno leaned in low and whispered. "The microfilm contains information that was and still is classified. You'll have to see it to believe it. It's about Project Azorian."

Steve couldn't believe it. It sounded like something out of a spy novel, if not one of his cases when he worked in Naval Intelligence. Project Azorian had been the government's best-kept secret for two years. Only a select group of people within the government knew about it. Just what Jayna was doing with that film in her possession was what puzzled him.

"Why would Jayna have this film?" Steve asked Danno, more so to think aloud to actually get an answer from his second-in-command.

"Maybe it has something to do with one of her past cases when she was with Intelligence," Danno suggested.

"There's only one person who could tell us that," Steve said.

**III**

If Steve was not feeling well when Jayna disappeared, he was not feeling any better when the image of the microfilm's contents showed up on the projector, magnified ten times over. The logging details of U.S. Naval ships, and U.S. logistics codes stared at him through the dim light emanating from the screen.

Steve swallowed hard, closed his eyes, and pressed his mouth into his fist. John Manicote shook his head, and Danno was understandably worried.

"Why did Jayna have all this?" Steve said, the pain showing through in his shaky voice.

"There has to be a reason," Danno said. "She was a spy."

"The key word here is 'was,'" Steve said. "Jayna gave up espionage when she joined Five-O." His tone was tinged with anger. Chin had a better grip on his emotions than Steve and Danno did at the moment and, given what they were witnessing, it was good that someone was remaining level.

"If she was still doing intelligence work, there's one person who knows – Norton," the Chinese detective pointed out. There's something else …" Chin pointed with his pipe. "Since Palani might have dyed his hair, I looked up information on Patrick Geller. Kaye said he was on assignment in the Far East, and I managed to get a hold of his personnel file. Look at this."

The men stared at the color photo. Staring back at them was a man with a fair complexion and chestnut-colored hair. Picture him with darker hair and skin, and that had Louis Palani.

"The name on this photo says Patrick Geller, but there is no doubt that that is Louis Palani," Steve gasped.

"Yet, they've got this whole criminal file on him, as though he really existed," Danno replied.

"It wouldn't be too hard for the government to create a fake dossier on someone, if they had them working undercover," Steve said with contempt. "If Geller is an intelligence agent, the Intelligence created this file on him."

"And Kaye and Norton will tell us they can't give out any information on this – because it's classified," Danno joined Steve in scorn.

"It's just our suppositions, with no proof, but with this microfilm, Intelligence's name is all over this." Steve bent over, grasping the desktop as though he was in danger of falling. Knowing how this case affected him and all of them, it was no surprise. What started out as a shooting and missing persons case has turned into one of espionage, with more unanswered questions than before. It was causing Steve more pain than he ever could imagine, but he had to go on. He could not give up, and he could not show weakness. He lifted his head up and looked at Danno.

"What's on the microfilm?" he asked.

Danno turned on the slide projector and the first slide came up. The title "Project Azorian" was on the first slide. They examined each one. They were all codes, blueprints for the nuclear missiles, other cryptographic materials, information on the crew of the Russian sub, and other important files. Steve and the others could only gape in shock at what they saw.

"The submarine has not even been lifted from the bottom of the ocean yet," he said. "How would this information have been available for Jayna to have?"

"It all adds up, Steve," Danno said. "Maybe that is what Jayna meant by 'Ice Angel.'"

"The governor could only tell me that she was a Russian spy and nothing more," Steve said. "If Jayna had information only select people in the U.S. government should have had, which the Russians don't want anyone to find, there's no doubt they're going to come looking for it, and kill to get it."

"And if Louis Palani was not who he claimed to be and was instead Patrick Geller, then it's clear this was not a mob hit," Chin added.

"That's the latest missing piece to this puzzle, Chin," Steve said, rubbing his knuckle. "Why was an intelligence agent posing as a mob informant, and why did he have to kill Jayna?" He turned to Chin. "Chin, tap your sources, and have Kono do the same. I'm going to see what I can get from Philip Norton."

"Steve, even if he refuses to talk, he'll be suspicious, and maybe have his agents after us," Danno warned.

"At this point, Danno, we've got to take the risk." Steve clenched his fist, and Danno knew once Steve made his decision, he stuck to it till the end.

**IV**

"We've got Prather right where we want him," Manicote said, clenching his fist for emphasis. "We can bring the case before the grand jury in a few days." Steve noted a tinge of excitement in his friend's voice, which he rarely heard unless Manicote had good reason to feel that way.

"I wish I could be as happy as you, John," Steve replied. "I only wish Jayna was here to see all this happen." He spoke solemnly, with no anger, or sadness. Manicote knew how Steve really felt inside. Manicote had no remedy for it, and wished he could comfort Steve better, but the only thing that would make his friend get over his grief was for Jayna to come walking through that door this very minute, and that was something Manicote could not get him.

"If it means anything, we might be putting the man responsible for her disappearance in jail," Manicote said.

"I know. I know," Steve said, tiredly. He patted Manicote's shoulder. "If only we could get Prather to talk about that."

"Now that you identified his watch," Manicote said, "you can even search his house."

"Once Judge Palmer signs off on that search warrant, we'll storm into Prather's house full force," Steve replied. "I'd like to see what lies he tells to wriggle his way out of this."

"He's told so many, I don't know when he's telling the truth," Manicote said. "You can't expect anything out of him. You'll have to rely on the physical evidence to speak for itself."

"The watch is his, and he denies ever being in Jayna's apartment, though Kono's sources say they saw him hanging around and going in," Steve said. "It's all a clever ploy to ruin Jayna's reputation. She'd sooner kick Prather into next year than even touch him." He ran his hand through his hair.

"And Prather denies everything? He has a lot of explaining to do," Manicote said. "What's your next move?"

"I need to look into something Danno saw in those photos from Jayna's locker. It might unlock the mystery of why she was shot," Steve told the DA.

**V**

The lone black limousine stood in the parking lot behind the Territorial Building. Steve walked briskly up to it, opened the door to the backseat, and got in. Commander Norwood sat silently in the middle, clutching a thick file in his hands. He handed it to Steve.

"Here it is," he said.

"Thank you." Steve took the folder and opened it. The black and white head-and-shoulders photo of a thin, flaxen-haired girl staring off to her left side was the first thing he saw. It was the same girl in the photo Danno pointed out to him, where she stood in the back, watching Wo Fat and Richard Prather conduct their business.

"Is she the Ice Angel?" Steve asked.

"Sure is." Norwood's tone was blunt. "Izabella Nikolaevna Reznikova. Thirty-two years old, resident of Moscow, worked in Russian Naval Intelligence since nineteen sixty. She's an expert in coding, forgery, marksmanship … and murder. Now you know why both Jayna and Palani had to disappear. This gal is probably gunning for them."

"Someone already took care of Jayna – with a gun," Steve retorted. "That is why I needed to find out about the Ice Angel. I need to know what she was doing and exactly what Jayna had to do with her."

"Then why did he shoot her?" Norwood asked.

Steve dropped the file onto his lap and rubbed his knuckles. "Palani and Jayna might have been working an Intelligence case all along then …" The thought seemed absurd, but they never found her body … "Then Jayna might not be dead at all."

Norwood, who – up until this point – had been very reserved, opened his eyes wide in astonishment. "Hold it, son. Just what kind of far-fetched tale is this? Jayna was shot, and two people saw her fall into the Pacific Ocean, and not come out. How could someone survive two bullet wounds while sinking to the bottom of the sea? Should I also remind you that there are sharks swimming around, and they perk up at the smell of blood?"

"She might not have been shot at all," Steve suggested, "if the shooter used blanks."

"But they found bullets and shells," Norwood said.

"They could have planted them," Steve countered.

"Even then, what evidence is there to prove that she is still alive?" Norwood asked.

"None, but if she was working on a case for Intelligence, it would only make sense they would keep her under wraps for the time being." There was a gleam in the Five-O chief's eyes, a gleam no one had seen in a while.

Norwood scratched his head. "It's beyond the reaches of my imagination, McGarrett, but if that's what you think, then I suggest you keep this little theory of yours under wraps for now. If you spill it to the wrong person, the results could be deadly."

"Commander, I didn't spend ten years in Naval Intelligence without knowing how to keep information secret," Steve reminded him.

**VI**

"Sir, this came in the mail for you," the secretary said. She handed Sen. Haynes a thick manila envelope.

"Thank you," Haynes said. The secretary turned on her heel and left. Haynes examined the envelope. The sending and return addresses were handwritten in black ink, and the flap was sealed in tape. The sending address was one he did not recognize. The post office mark "Paper Do Not Bend" was stamped along the back. Haynes handled the package gently, and felt that the content was paper or cardboard. He pulled out a letter opener and slowly cut open the flap. He gently slid the contents out of the envelope.

The glossy black and white images depicted him and that sultry girl from the Ilikai. His hands trembling, he reached out and picked up the photos. Going through each one, he saw himself and the girl in one compromising position after another. The hangover was not from too alcohol. She drugged him.

There was a note underneath the last photo. "Drop your investigation, or there will be more like this."

Haynes dropped the photos and picked up the phone. "Get me Hawaii Five-O!" he yelled.

**VI**

For Danno and Chin, it was history repeating – too soon. They shuddered as they saw the pornographic images. One thing was certain: this was not a coincidence.

"I should not have gone up with her, I know, but she was tempting me. I couldn't resist. She caught my eye the minute I saw her. If my wife found out …" Haynes wiped his forehead.

"Had you seen this girl before?" Danno asked.

"No, no I never did," Haynes replied. "I saw her for the first time at the Ilikai two days ago. I was there to meet some business owners for lunch."

"We'll have to put a wire tap on your phone, in case the blackmailers call," Chin said, "and if they do, you tell them what they want to hear – that you are stopping the Organized Crime Committee's investigation. You understand?"

Haynes nodded. "Yes, I get it." He looked ill, and the detectives couldn't blame him.

"Did the girl give a name?" Danno asked.

"I don't remember …" Haynes said, frustrated.

"What about the room number?" Chin asked.

Haynes thought a moment, then he said, "I don't remember it off the top of my head, but it was on the third floor. I remember seeing the numbers on other room doors. They were all in the three hundred-range."

"We can take it from there," Danno said. He motioned to one of the officers to come in and instructed him to finish taking Haynes's statement.

In the foyer, Chin took out his pipe and lit it. "This is getting more complicated by the minute. Steve will have to see those photos. We may have to show him the other ones."

"Not just yet," Danno said. "There's still nothing to connect Jayna to this, but those photos Haynes got proves there is another woman responsible for them. She looks a lot like the girl in the photos from the bus locker."

**VII**

When Danno got to his apartment door at the end of the day, he was ready to collapse before he got inside. His mail was sticking out of the mail box and managed to grab it all in one handful. He went inside and tossed the pile onto the living room table. Magazines, bills, and a small, check-size envelope landed in like fallen dominoes onto the tabletop. It was the check-size envelope that got his attention. There was no address on it, and it was sealed with a simple little piece of tape.

Peeling back the tape, he opened the flap and pulled out a small note. It was typed on plain white cardstock. It read:

Ching-Lan Shen

369 Hobron Lane, Apt. 3H

Honolulu

There was a business card with the name of a camera shop in Honolulu. Danno had never heard the name Ching-Lan Shen before, but he had to check it out.

He picked up the phone and called HPD, then asked for Ken Nishimura. "Hello, Ken? This is Danny. I need you to check out something for me …"

**VIII**

"Ching-Lan Shen works as a hostess at the Midnight Orchid," Ken told Steve and Danno. "She's been an employee there for the past five years. Before that, she was living and working in Hong Kong, at another club run by one of Hong Kong's biggest crime figures – who also had ties to Chinese intelligence and Wo Fat."

Steve and Danno listened intently as Ken went on. "She came here and has worked for Prather ever since."

"The camera shop is a tie-in," Danno said. "She might use it as a place to meet contacts or to buy photography equipment. Her file from Intelligence indicates photography is one of her talents."

"And there's no doubt she's the girl in the photos with Haynes," Steve said, examining the photo Danno got in the mail. "Her features are not entirely Chinese. She could be Eurasian."

Danno didn't notice it when he first saw the photo but on closer inspection, Ching-Lan resembled the girl in the photos taken in the staged bedroom. Could Ching-Lan and the woman in those photos be one in the same? There was no doubt about it now. The only problem was how to show the photos to Steve. If Jayna needed to hide them, there was no doubt they would be an issue …

"Her father was Chinese and her mother was Indian," Ken replied. "She was born and raised in Macau, then moved to Hong Kong when she was nineteen, at which point the Hong Kong gangster hired her. She could easily pass for a lot of Asian races."

"No wonder Prather employed her," Steve said. "She's good at rigging risqué bedroom photos. Could you lift any prints off the cards or the photo?" he turned to Danno.

"Nothing," Danno answered. "Whoever put these together used gloves. There is one clue, though …" he showed Steve and Ken an enlargement of the card on which Shen's address was typed. "The capital L has a nick through the vertical part, while each lower case a is thicker than usual. The envelope had no writing, typing, or fingerprints on it, which means someone put it in my mailbox themselves. I asked my neighbors and the building manager, and no one saw anyone suspicious. The manager delivers the mail, and she didn't see any small envelope in my mailbox when she put the mail in, and that was at two in the afternoon. I got home at around nine."

"That gave someone seven hours to place the envelope there," Steve replied, "and they could not have gone unnoticed. Isn't there a security system with surveillance cameras?"

"There is," Danno replied. "The security guards are going through the tapes, but the cameras only cover the outside of the building and the lobby."

"That's good enough," Steve said. "We can still figure out who it was if the other people seen going in are residents or their guests and can be identified."

"What about the camera shop?" Steve asked.

"The owner said Ching-Lan came in a few times to buy developer, stop bath, fixer, bleach, and film," Ken said. "She didn't say much, but when the owner asked her what she planned on photographing – just to make conversation – she said she was an interior decorator and was taking before and after photos of the places she decorated. Her file indicates Shen studied art in China and worked as a decorator for government offices.

"When he told her about their discount on film developing, she said she did her own developing, but thanked him anyway." Ken read those lost words from his notebook. "It makes sense, given her purchases."

"So we need to look for a place where she might be doing the developing," Steve said. "There's better place than her apartment. What time does Ching-Lan go to work?"

"At five p.m., till one in the morning," Danno answered.

"I'll speak to Manicote." Steve went to the door.

**IX**

John Manicote was at his wit's end. On the one hand, there was evidence that Ching-Lan Shen was the person responsible for blackmailing Sen. Haynes, but Haynes was reluctant to proceed with apprehending her, despite filing charges against her.

"We may be able to get her for extortion, but that will not get us anything on Richard Prather," Manicote told Steve, "unless Shen agrees to testify against him."

"And we know how that will end up," Steve said, walking to the window and leaning against the sill. "At best, Shen will implicate Prather and he'll go to prison for extortion. At worst, she'll keep quiet and we'll get nowhere, or Prather will have her killed anyway, just to ensure he saves his own skin!" Steve clenched his fist in rage.

"We'll have to try and see," Manicote said. "If these photos of Haynes come out, the grand jury's indictment of Prather will be considered tainted and a judge could throw it out."

"Then we're back to square one," Steve grumbled.

"We still have all the information Jayna gave us," Manicote reminded Steve. "It won't all go to waste. You got Haynes to tell us about the blackmail, and if not for that note in Danno's mail box, then we would not have known about Shen."

"That's what bothers me, John," Steve said, staring at the wall. "Who gave Danno that note, and how did they know that we were investigating Haynes's blackmail?"

"Consider it a small mercy," John replied, "though I am curious about it, too."

Manicote often used a heavy hand in discussing legal matters with Steve to keep the Five-O chief in line and to make sure no mistake is made in enforcing the law. This time, though, he was being gentler because he this was a difficult time for Steve. To Manicote, Steve may have been acting out from grief over Jayna's disappearance. Manicote didn't want to say anything that might upset Steve.

"It all depends on what Ching-Lan Shen tells us," Manicote replied. "If she is afraid of Prather, we can promise her protection."

"I just don't want Jayna's work to be for nothing," Steve said. He sat down across from Manicote, frowning miserably, his beautiful blue eyes turning dark as sadness crept into them.

Manicote had never seen the top cop in this state before. He didn't know what to say at this moment, but he could not let the awkward silence continue.

"Prather is not going to walk," he promised the top cop. "We'll nail him, one way or the other." Manicote's gray eyes locked in with Steve's.

"Just make sure I'm the one holding the hammer, John," Steve replied.

**X**

Ching-Lan Shen lived in what appeared to be simple, yet elegant dwellings: A one-bedroom apartment with a balcony offering a picturesque view of Waikiki Beach. The living room walls and carpet were in a matching creamy off-white and the furnishings were either upholstered in imperial red or constructed of black cherry wood and bamboo. Reminders of Shen's Chinese heritage were everywhere. There were jade and wood figurines of Buddha and Confucius on the mantel and in a cabinet, and a tapestry of a dragon covering the couch. Vases imitated in the blue-and-white pattern of the Ming dynasty sat on the coffee and end tables.

The bedroom continued the earth tone, crimson, and oriental theme. There was nothing out of place and no sign that someone had rummaged through the drawers or closets. Yet, Che had discovered three sets of fingerprints in the living room alone.

"They belong to three different people – two men and one woman," he told Steve. "I'll have to compare these with the ones we have of the other suspects to see if they match."

A tap on Danno's shoulder from an HPD officer signaled for him to follow the officer back into the bedroom. Kono was still inside, continuing the search under Shen's mattress and in her dresser drawers. Kono held out a small shoebox. From them he lifted out a familiar object: an oval, pink cameo necklace with a gold chain.

"There's more," Kono whispered, not wanting Steve to hear from the other room. "There were copies of the photos in here …" he pointed to a hidden compartment in the wood paneling along the wall.

"Put these in an envelope and get them out of here fast," Danno ordered. "If Steve finds out about them now, we've all had it!"

Kono and the officer nodded and put the negatives into a plastic bag, which Kono sealed and placed inside a manila envelope. He tucked the envelope under his arm and walked stealthily out, the officer walking alongside to obstruct Steve's view. With all the other officers and forensic technicians walking about the living room, it wasn't too hard to do. Danno was secretly praying the rest of this case went as smoothly. It was a matter of time before they would have to show the photos to Steve. That time was creeping up on them, and would be here before they realized.

**XI**

It was business as usual at Five-O headquarters, despite the ever-looming knowledge that Jayna was still missing. Jenny busily typed away, while Mele put some folders in the filing cabinet. Chin and Kono waited anxiously for Steve and Danno to get back.

When they saw their boss and his partner walk in, smiling triumphantly, they knew they had nailed Richard Prather.

"We got him," Steve replied, "on all charges, including extortion in the case of Sen. Haynes. We got him!" It was the first time in a while that the Five-O men saw their boss looking so happy. They wondered how long it would last.

Danno seemed less ill at ease than before, but he was still trying to find out how to tell Steve about those faked photos. It wasn't Jayna, but he still hid evidence from his boss and partner. Steve may never forgive him for that. Danno was willing to accept the consequences of his actions, but he still feared how Steve would react. It was bad enough to lose Jayna, and to find out that one of his men hid evidence from him would be one more shocking blow too many.

"What about Ching-Lan Shen?" Chin asked. "Did she talk?"

"She's demanding a lawyer and to speak to the Chinese Consulate," Steve replied.

"Then how did you link Prather to blackmailing Haynes?" Kono asked.

"Copies of those same photos were found in his office at the Midnight Orchid," Steve replied. "HPD got some anonymous tip … just like with the card in Danno's mailbox." Steve's tone changed to one of uncertainty. One anonymous tip was understandable, but not two in a row in related cases.

"The call was traced to a phone booth at the Makai Pier," Danno said. "They lifted different sets of fingerprints from the receiver and buttons and are trying to identify them. It's a longshot, but it might lead somewhere."

"This series of anonymous tips is starting to look suspicious," Steve said. "Whoever sent Danno the Ching-Lan's name and the camera shop's business card had to have known why we were looking for Ching-Lan, and that she was here – the same with the photos. They had have known that Prather had them in his possession, and that would not be something they could easily find out."

"You think it was an inside job?" Chin asked.

"Yes, in a way," Steve replied. He rested his chin on his fist, immersed in deep thought. "It wasn't just someone snitching on the two of them. We didn't know of Shen's existence until Danno got that card in the mail, otherwise, we would never have known she was involved. We couldn't have gone and searched Prather's office based on a hunch or just because Shen worked at the Midnight Orchid. We'd never get a search warrant that way. If not the anonymous call, we'd have never have been able to look there, though it was an obvious place to search."

Steve walked into his office, his men in tow. Steve began looking under the furniture, behind the paintings, inside the lamps, and in the bookcase. His men knew what he was doing: he was looking for a bug. They followed his lead and began turning Steve's office inside out.

"There's nothing here, Steve," Chin said, turning around one more painting and putting it back in its place. Danno and Kono examined each book in Steve's bookcases and put them all back. Steve put back the last drawer in his desk and dusted off the ink blotter.

"It was worth a try," he said. He took off his jacket, hung it up, and collapsed into his chair, rubbing his forehead and sighing. "One way or another, we have to find out who our fairy godmother really is."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**I**

Wo Fat lit a bundle of incense and placed it inside a small, ornate vase, sitting at the foot of the large gold statue of Buddha. He knelt in front and prayed silently, while the two Buddhist priests chanted softly behind. He could hear the footsteps of Xiaotong approach. The master Chinese spy got up and turned to meet his assistant.

"Master, McGarrett has sent out an arrest warrant for Richard Prather," Xiaotong said, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice. He was in his early twenties, having just completed spy training in Beijing, and was sent to work with Wo Fat a few months earlier. He stood only five feet eight inches, and his hair was covered in a mop of straight black hair that fell over his forehead and ears. He looked more like an office boy than a spy, but his abilities outweighed his appearance.

Wo Fat always managed to remain calm, even in the direst of situations. He put his arm around his second-in-command and ushered him out of the room, leaving the monks to continue their prayers. Their deep chanting could still be heard after Wo Fat closed the doors to the temple room behind them.

"Do you have that package?" the older spy asked.

"Yes," his assistant answered. "Mr. Prather's man gave it to me. It's ready and addressed."

"Good," Wo Fat said as they walked down the hallway to his office. "We make our next move after McGarrett makes his." They stepped into a large room, covered in dark wooden paneling and decorated in art reflecting China's history, culture, and philosophy, complete with dragons and statuettes of Chinese gods. On a table sat a chess board, the figures standing six inches tall. One side was made of ivory, the other of black jade. One white pawn had already been moved forward a few places. Wo Fat picked up a jade pawn and moved it over the ivory one, indicating that that latter had been captured. Wo Fat placed the ivory pawn on the table by the side of the black jade figures. Then he picked up the jade king.

"When McGarrett takes out one of our knights …" he removed a jade knight from the board and put it on the side, "we'll take out one of his." He moved a jade knight several squares forward, to where it stood face-to-face with the ivory pawns. He then picked up the ivory king, "and our opponent will be out of the game for quite a while." He smiled sardonically as he twirled the ivory figure around, its pristine, smooth, cream-colored surface glinting in the light.

**II**

Richard Prather smoked his way through three cigarettes by the time Steve McGarrett showed up in the interrogation room. The smell of nicotine drifted from the green plastic ashtray that sat in the middle of the metal table. If ever there could be an image to go along with the word "contempt," it would be the look on the gangster's face at the moment the head of Five-O entered.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," Steve said, sardonically. He flopped down in the chair facing Prather, shooting sharp daggers at him with his blue eyes, now resembling the cold blue of an iceberg. Steve took out a photo of Jayna and slid it across to Prather. He stared at it, and Steve could see a glint of recognition in the other man's face.

"You know who she is," the chief of Five-O said, icily, "and you know what happened to her." He was trying not to get emotional and allow for Prather to get the upper hand. If your opponent sees that you are weak, he can wreak untold damage on your psyche with only his words, and tell a few lies in the process to make him look stronger.

"What do you want me to say?" Prather snapped, shoving back the photo like it was scrap paper.

That was the last straw for Steve. He picked up Jayna's photo and threw it back at Prather. "Look at it!" he roared. "That's the face of the woman who was investigating you, and now she's dead!"

"I don't know anything about her shooting." Prather spoke like he was discussing the weather. Steve knew he was hiding something. He had to keep at him, keep him talking, intimidate and antagonize him as much as possible till he broke.

He lowered his tone and bent his head down to where his eyes were level with Prather's. "We know about the illegal gambling halls, the prostitution, the narcotics rings," Steve sneered. "Shall I show you the photos of your victims who overdosed?"

Prather was starting to shiver, but he hid it well. Steve had him. Steve leaned in, waiting for Prather's next retort. He remained silent, but was tinged with nervousness.

"Do you know what your employee, Ching-Lan Shen, was up to?" Steve continued the torment. "She was blackmailing Senator Haynes so he would back off on investigating you. I doubt she decided to do so entirely on her own."

Prather said not a word. He was doing his best to maintain control, and not give himself away. He couldn't let on to McGarrett that he knew Ching-Lan. The chief of Five-O was enjoying this, he could see. Prather wasn't going to give him any more pleasure.

"I'm not saying anything more until I speak to my lawyer," Prather said emphatically.

"I wondered when you'd get around to that," Steve said, smiling cunningly. "You're going to need a good lawyer," he rose, "because we have a truckload of evidence against you, and you'll need a miracle worker to get you around it." Steve walked out, leaving a shaken and unnerved Richard Prather behind.

"You just watch, McGarrett," Prather said with a scowl, "you'll wish you had never hauled me in here."

"You'd better save that wish for yourself," Steve snapped. "When I'm through with you. you're going to wish you never set foot in Hawaii."

**III**

Philip Norton walked into Jonathan Kaye's office looking flustered. Kaye had his back to Norton, studying a large map diligently, plotting points on it with different-colored plastic thumbtacks.

"McGarrett's got Prather and two of his men on ice, charges being pressed as we speak," he said. "They're not charging them with Jayna's shooting, since there's no evidence they're involved, but McGarrett might be getting close."

"It's time to enact Phase Two," Kaye said. He turned back to the map and stuck a few more thumbtacks in different locations. "Keep a close eye on McGarrett after this. This might make him crack."

Norton nodded, with uncertainty in his eyes.

**IV**

The writing on the blackboard spelled everything out in white chalk, with the heading "TIMELINE" written across the top in capital letters. The board was divided into columns, with a different date at the top of each one, and bulleted descriptions of each day's events, starting with the day that Jayna was shot and disappeared, and ending with Prather's arrest. Everything else in between was accounted for and detailed. Counting the number of days, it was one week since Jayna vanished, the men all thought as they looked at the words Steve had delicately written. Seven days. Much can happen in seven days.

"Day One," Steve began, pointing to last Tuesday morning with a pointer, "was when Jayna trailed an unknown assailant to Honolulu Harbor. He saw her follow, took out a gun, and started shooting. Jayna chased him and fired back, and the assailant shot her, causing her to fall off the wharf and into the water. The witnesses, a young couple living in a houseboat on the dock, said they saw the shooting sometime between 5:55 and 6:05 am. They called HPD a few minutes after six-fifteen, and HPD and Harbor Patrol arrived on the scene." Steve stopped for a moment, trying to collect himself. Danno could see tears starting to form at the corners of his boss's eyes. He was about to get up to get him some tissues, but Steve waved him back. "I'm alright," he said.

He then moved the pointer to the second day. There was the search of Jayna's apartment, the watch under her bed, discovering that her favorite necklace was the only piece of jewelry missing from her jewelry box, and what Danno found out about Jayna's checking account and the contents of her safety deposit box. Everything in the box except for the faked photos was listed on the chalkboard. Danno was still grappling with when and how to tell Steve about them. The moment would arrive, and he could not avoid it.

"Danno?" Steve asked, breaking his second-in-command's train of thought.

"What?" Danno asked, startled. He hoped Steve wasn't suspecting that he was hiding something.

"What did you find out about that money in Jayna's checking account?"

"It was a cash deposit," Danno said quickly, remembering himself, "and she later withdrew twelve hundred of it to pay her rent and utilities for the next six months."

The photos of Prather and Wo Fat … the fake bedroom photos … how did it all fit in? How would he tell Steve?

"There is the matter of the watch under Jayna's bed," Steve said. "Prather denies that it was stolen, just that he lost it. I think he knows more about it than he's saying. His fingerprints were on it, and they've identified a second set of prints on the watch as that of Ching-Lan Shen's. Then there's Akila and Krause's fingerprints on the bedroom furniture. Did HPD bring them in?" Steve asked.

"Ken and Duke brought them in this afternoon," Chin answered.

"Ching-Lan Shen's fingerprints were also found on some surfaces in Jayna's bedroom," Chin said.

Steve bit his knuckle. "But why? That's what doesn't make sense," he said, frustrated. "Why were they in Jayna's apartment?"

Chin, Danno, and Kono kept silent. They knew the answer to that question, but could not tell Steve, though they wished they could.

"The watch I found under Jayna's bed had Prather and Shen's fingerprints on them. She is already linked to him by working with him, but the fingerprints on the watch prove they were in contact with each other." Steve pointed to where he wrote "PRATHER'S WATCH" on the chalkboard.

"Burt Akila and Greg Krause's fingerprints were also found in Jayna's apartment – in her bedroom, specifically … on the bed frame and the dresser," Steve went on.

Danno knew why: they were examining Jayna's bedroom so Ching-Lan could recreate it.

"Louis Palani has disappeared without a trace, despite there being no way he could have gotten off this rock," Steve added. "The missing link here is the man who shot Jayna." Steve pointed to the column on the chalk board where he wrote "UNKNOWN ASSAILANT."

The buzz from the intercom resounded, and Steve pressed its blinking red button. "Yes, Jenny?"

"There's a call from Tony Manning on Line One," Jenny replied.

Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Thanks, Jenny. Put him on. … Yes, Tony?" The next voice Steve heard was from his friend from Harbor Patrol.

"Steve?" Tony began. It had been a week since they spoke. Tony promised that he would call Steve to let him know if Harbor Patrol found anything. Steve felt an unpleasantness in the pit of his stomach, which was spreading fast. His sixth sense was kicking in, and he hoped this time that it was wrong.

"Yes, Tony," Steve replied back, calmly, so as not to let on to the others that anything could be wrong.

"Come to the harbor as soon as you can." Tony spoke urgently. He hesitated next, unsure of the right words to say, and when the simplest of words would seem too blunt and cruel. He tried again, telling the dreaded words he had to say, in the simplest way possible. "We found a body."

The color drained from Steve's face and his jaw dropped. Instinctively, Danno, Chin, and Kono jumped out of their seats. Steve tried to keep from dropping the receiver. His right forearm that held the phone was visibly shaking, and he had to sit down, the look of shock on his face being impossible to hide now. "Did you see it?" he asked, breathlessly.

"I did, but we need a positive identification," Tony replied. "I can't say for certain, but I couldn't proceed without you ..." Tony was searching for the right words to say, but the search was useless.

"We'll be right over," Steve said, the shock permeating his tone. He said good-bye to Tony and hung up. Steve looked at his men, turning his head up slowly. "They found a body," he said gravely. Steve got up, took his jacket off the hanger, hastily put it on, and sprinted for the door. Steve was out the door with his men dashing after him.

**V**

The scene at the beach by Honolulu Harbor could be described as pandemonium at best, insane at worst. HPD tried to keep onlookers back, while Harbor Patrol personnel secured the waters nearby so no other boats – especially any filled with reporters and photographers – could get near.

Tony Manning tried to keep his emotions under control, but he was still on edge. He hoped that the crowd was back far enough so that they couldn't see the body. Then, he heard that familiar screech of tires, and saw the black Mercury Park Lane stop at the edge of the road. Steve jumped out, slamming the door shut, and rushed down the beach, kicking sand up behind him as his feet dug into the ground with each step. Danno, Chin, and Kono followed, further increasing the crowd's curiosity. They were a bunch of bikini-clad girls, boys in swimming trunks, adults and children out for a swim or picnic, all gathering around, standing on the balls of their feet and craning their necks in morbid curiosity. The police officers kept pushing them back.

Steve slowed down his run half-way to the shoreline. The body still lay in the sand, covered by a white sheet. Tony and an HPD officer stood near it. An ambulance with two paramedics stood nearby. Keeping his eyes on the body under the sheet and looking nowhere else, Steve approached it cautiously, trying to prolong the minutes when he was still free from knowing what lay beneath the sheet, when he still had that hope that what he dreaded was still not a reality. His men stood behind him, stopping a few feet away. They wanted to be close to their boss, but Steve told them to stand back. Steve knelt beside the body, as the detective from HPD lifted the sheet.

It was a grisly sight. The body was decomposed, typical of a corpse which had been drifting in tropical waters for a week. The skin had long-since separated from the body, and the hands and feet were swollen. Steve could not make a positive identification from sight of the corpse alone. He would have to wait and see what Doc and Che found, but the thought that this decayed body might be that of one of his closest and most-trusted investigators and friends was too much to endure.

Steve swallowed hard, trying to fight back tears. There was a chance it might not be her, he knew, but he had a feeling deep inside that the thought was a false comfort. Danno kept his hand on his boss's shoulder, to steady him in case he did break down, but Steve needed his friend's hold nonetheless. One of the forensic technicians approached them, along with Doc Bergman. The technician had in his hands a folded handkerchief.

"What is it, Doc?" Steve asked.

Doc and the technician were hesitant to speak. Then Doc said, "Steve, we found something … Don't be alarmed."

The technician unfolded the handkerchief to reveal a plastic evidence bag. Inside it was an oval pendant on a gold chain. Gold, frilly edges covered a pink cameo of woman in white silhouette. Steve knew where that necklace came from.

"Oh, God, no!" he gasped. This time, Steve needed Danno to keep him from falling. Danno tried very to steady himself as well. Chin and Kono could only look on, confused and concerned.

"We found this around the body's neck," the technician said. "Please, Steve, let us check this out first."

Steve took a deep breath. "Go on, Doc, do all the tests you need, and tell the minute you get results," the chief of Five-O said. Danno gently led his boss away, as the crowd watched, and the sea breeze turned colder.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**I**

Steve had been in Doc's autopsy room on more occasions than he could count, but this was one visit he was dreading. The medical smell that permeated the room was making him sick to his stomach. Danno sat next to him, staring around, trying to remain calm. It was no easy task. The door opened and Doc walked out, a grave look on his face.

Steve and Danno got up when he approached. Steve didn't need to worry anymore. His heart sank as Doc began to speak.

"The fact that it was in tropical water for a week would damage any proper chance of identifying it, unless its teeth were intact," Doc said. "I'll spare you the gory details, but when a body falls into waters like the ones we have here, the rate of decomposition will be faster than in colder waters, but slower than on dry land. The hands and feet will become swollen after three or four days and, after five or six days, the skin falls away, and bacterial growth and gas formation will cause it to float to the surface after a week."

"I thought you were going to spare me the gory details," Steve replied, not angrily, but faintly. Steve was losing his grip. Doc decided to be quick.

"I'm sorry, Steve," he said.

"The teeth match Jayna's. Her dentist confirmed this," Doc added. "Che also did a blood test, Steve, and the blood is A-positive – her blood type."

Steve said nothing, but his enlarging pupils and teary eyes told Doc all he needed to know. Danno looked at his boss looked with apprehension and fear. They knew what was coming, but their minds were not accepting it. Doc hesitated to speak, but the long, awkward silence could not go on forever.

Steve nodded his head sadly. "I understand, Doc. Thank you for your help." Danno still his hand on Steve's shoulder, and squeezed it gently. Steve patted his partner's hand.

"I'll be all right, Danno," he said.

"I wish this could have ended differently," Doc tried to console them.

Steve collapsed against the wall, his back slowly sliding down the white-painted sheetrock while he held his head in his hands. This time, he could not control himself anymore.

"Oh, God, no! No! No!" he cried.

Doc rushed over and put his arms around Steve. Danno had tears running from his eyes, down his cheeks. He clenched his teeth, trying not to scream out, but none of the men were successful at holding inside their true feelings.

**II**

Steve sat in the cream leather armchair in front of his desk. On the table next to him was a tall glass of water, filled to the brim with ice cubes, and small bottle of nerve pills. Steve protested having to take any medication, but Doc Bergman insisted, given what Steve had been through the past hours. It had only been eight hours since they found Jayna's body. Eight hours. Steve spent that time walking a tightrope between the living and the dead. He went through the motions, making the phone calls, filing the paperwork, despite Danno, Chin, and Kono's protestations. Steve insisted he had to do something. He couldn't just sit still and grieve. He could not put Jayna's death out of his mind. He tried to rethink what Tony Manning told him, about how Jayna's body was discovered …

A boy and girl were strolling along the beach at daybreak, collecting seashells. They saw something floating in the water by some large rocks. On closer investigation, they saw it was the body of a woman. They ran to the road where there was a payphone, and called the police. The squad car that answered the call then called Harbor Patrol, and Tony Manning arrived, saw Jayna's body, and called Five-O.

These thoughts went spinning around and around in Steve's mind, creating a web of confusion and pain. He bent forward, holding his face in his hands, and sobbed. He tried to stop the tears from falling, but it was no use. He stared up into space for a few minutes, clearing the never-ending tears and trying to collect his thoughts. Through the blur, he could see Jayna Berringer's face. They were back on the beach in Waikiki, on the night of a full moon similar to this. They were doing surveillance work on a drug pusher. It was a long and uneventful night, but they had to keep their watch. Jayna started talking, about her past...

She was from the big island of Hawaii, raised on the family's jackfruit and sugarcane plantation. Her parents were from two opposite ends of the world. Her mother was an Indian-Mexican from Southern California. She met Jayna's father, an American of German and English extraction from New Jersey, when he came to California to look for work. He was smitten with her from the moment they first locked eyes. From having seen a photo of Jayna's mother, Steve was not surprised. Mrs. Berringer had the same raven hair, chocolate button eyes, and enchanting smile.

They were married in August of 1939. Jayna was born two years later. World War II was starting to spread all over Europe, and Mr. Berringer, once his number came up in the weeks after Pearl Harbor, joined in the U.S. Air Force, and was stationed in England. When Lt. Berringer's tour of duty was over, he went back to California. Then another plan unfolded: there was a chain of islands in the South Pacific that was a territory of the U.S., called Hawaii. With money they saved up, the Berringers moved to Hawaii, just outside Hilo, bought a plot of land, and started their own plantation, growing the same produce so prevalent in the land of Mrs. Berringer's paternal ancestors.

He had only visited that farm twice, and each time, the Berringers treated Steve like he was part of the family. Maybe, in some small way, the Berringers hoped Steve would really become part of the family someday, but it was impossible, the way he saw it.

Steve and Jayna's relationship was more of a deep friendship – deeper than mentor-protégé, but not romantic, though that did not stop Steve from having stronger feelings for Jayna. He had an intuition that she felt something more for him that was more than friendship. Because of their official positions, though, Steve had to keep his feelings in check and keep things on a professional level. Steve started to tear up again when he heard a knock from the door.

"Who is it?" he called out.

"It's me, Steve," came Danno's reply. "May I come in?"

"Yes, Danno, come on in," Steve took a sip of the ice cold water. It did little to soothe him, having already taken a nerve pill a few hours earlier, and he hoped Danno's company would help more. His curly-haired second-in-command entered, closing the large door behind him softly. He didn't want to make too much noise, knowing how that could play on Steve's nerves. Steve got up, managing a look of relief when he saw his young partner. Danno offered one of the two Styrofoam coffee cups he was holding.

"Milk and sugar, the way you like it," he said.

"Thanks, Danno, what would I ever do without you?" the Five-O Chief said.

Danno smiled at his boss as he handed him the cup. "The Governor says he wants to come down and see you later, when you're ready." The two men sat down and sipped the coffee.

Steve rested his head back in the armchair, looking at the ceiling. "Tell him to come up in one hour," he replied, his voice still sounding frail. "I just can't think of anything else but her."

"None of us could get any work done today," Danno said. "Chin went home to tell his wife. His children will be upset. They were very fond of Jayna, especially Susie and Alia." Danno thought back to the Easter picnic, which all the Five-O and HPD crew and their families attended. He remembered Jayna and Chin's two older daughters engaging in a volleyball game ended with Susie hitting the ball into a banyan tree several yards away. Danno smiled to himself a little as he pictured the scene, still hearing the girls' laughter.

"Why, Danno," Steve began, speaking softly and looking into space. "What was she doing out there? What was she expecting to find?"

Danno didn't have an answer, though he wished he did. He wished he knew what was happening, wished he was there to go with Jayna that morning. Maybe then, she wouldn't have been killed …

"It was something Jayna decided she had to do on her own," Danno said. "Only she knew."

Steve clenched his teeth and his fist. He pounded the armrest. "She didn't tell me! She didn't tell me … that's what hurts … she never kept a secret from me!" He swallowed hard and tears started to form at the corners of his eyes. Danno handed him some tissues. After wiping his face, he went on. "He has to be found … that scumbag that killed Jayna!" Steve jumped up out of the chair, his voice rising with every sentence.

Danno went to his boss's side and put his hand on his shoulders. "Calm down, Steve." He guided Steve back to his chair. Steve was still staring at the wall, seething. The anger was not directed at his assistant, but Danno hurried his words along.

"There is some good news, though not a huge comfort. It's not going to bring Jayna back, but the grand jury just indicted Richard Prather for illegal gambling, extortion, and illegal sale of firearms. Manicote says they're trying to tie him to Jayna's murder, but they only have evidence to link him to Shen, but if we keep searching, there's evidence that will connect Prather. Manicote is working on getting an indictment for Shen's murder. They're trying to find evidence that proves he killed Shen. They're questioning Akila and Krause now, trying to offer them some plea deal. They'll definitely talk."

"Good work, _Aikane_." Steve opened and closed his fist, clenching it tightly. "We're going to nail Prather for this." His tone was colder than the ice in his drinking glass. It made Danno shiver, and made him thankful that he was on Steve's side.

**III**

Wo Fat stood on the bridge, admiring the pink lotuses floating on the surface of the pond. His reflection dispersed with the rippling water, and the Chinese spy laughed. He turned to see Xiaotong come hurrying up the bridge.

"Prather has called his lawyer, sir," the assistant said. "He's been indicted, but released on bail. They also found Miss Berringer's body."

"Perfect timing," Wo Fat replied. He turned to look back at the water, and throw some bread crumbs to the giant carp that were swimming around the lotuses. The golden fish scurried, gobbling up the breadcrumbs as though that was all they were going to get. He poured some more crumbs into the water.

"Whoever did it must have been very careful. McGarrett has not found any evidence of who he was," Xiaotong told him.

"If McGarrett could have, he would have by now. We still have one more murder to commit, Xiaotong." Wo Fat flecked the last bread crumbs from his fingers into the pond. "Not really a murder, per se, of a living person, but a murder of someone who is already dead."

Xiaotong nodded. "I'll make sure the arrangements are carried out within the next three days."

"We should allow for a suitable period of mourning to pass, but as long as Mr. McGarrett doesn't find out on the day of the funeral, it will be fine. Let him have some peace the day he buries Miss Berringer." Wo Fat turned back to feed the fish, a somber look on his face.

**IV**

Steve was all set to leave for the day. He told Danno to run along, and said the same to Kono and Jenny. He stared at the frosty ice cream cup that sat on his desk. Danno went out and got some for everybody. He told Steve to eat it before it melted. Luckily, the cup had been in the deep freezer for over an hour, and was just starting to soften. Steve picked it up, the ice crystals melting into his skin. It was Breyer's Chocolate Ice Cream. Steve realized he hadn't eaten since that morning. He didn't have any appetite the whole day, and that ice cream was starting to look good. He took the lid off the cup, picked up the plastic spoon that lay next to it, and dug in. The soft, creamy mixture slipped down his throat and into his stomach, giving him a feeling of comfort.

He remembered how Jayna loved ice cream, chocolate also being her favorite flavor. She would sometimes pour chocolate sauce and sprinkles over it. Steve started to smile again, for the first time in several hours. Spoonful by spoonful, he put the ice cream in his mouth, letting it rest on his tongue for a while before swallowing. Before long, the cup was empty and he took it into the washroom to clean it before putting it in the garbage can. On walking back into his office, he found Governor Jameson waiting for him. The Governor smiled at the head of his state's police unit as Steve came in.

"I see you finally got some food into you," Jameson said.

"At least I get some serving of dairy," Steve said, dropping the ice cream cup into the waste can. He sat down in the cream armchair and Jameson took the same matching chair in which Danno sat earlier.

"I won't sugarcoat things, Steve. I know how you felt about Jayna. I was very fond of her, too, and I want you to do whatever it takes to get the people who did this. You have the full cooperation of HPD. Commissioner Dann said he'll help in any way. I also got the Hawaii Bureau of Investigation to help. They'll investigate Prather and his men even further. Manicote told me that Akila and Krause are cooperating. They'll tell all they know about Ching-Lan Shen's murder, but they don't know anything about Jayna's. They'll give full dispositions tomorrow …" Jameson looked at his thumbs and started to fidget with them. Steve knew his boss was trying to think of what to say next. There was silence for several minutes, the only sound coming from the ticking off the clock on Steve's desk.

"Have you contacted Jayna's family?" Jameson asked.

"I spoke to one of her sisters. She was upset, naturally, but said that she and Jayna's other relatives would come down. They weren't angry, just devastated." Steve sighed. "I don't know how I'm going to face them." He tapped his fingers on the table.

"It wasn't your fault, Steve," the Governor tried to assure him. "You didn't know where she'd be or what she was doing."

"That's what bothers me," Steve replied. "I should have known. Jayna was doing something else she wasn't telling any of us about. She was working for Intelligence. That's why she died!" The tension was returning to his voice.

"I thought Jayna quit the spy business when she joined Five-O. That was part of her agreement. There couldn't be any conflict of interests," Jameson pointed out. "What proof do you have?"

Steve's eyes watered again. He laced his fingers and rested his chin on them. "I found microfilm under the floorboards in Jayna's closet. We examined it, and it contains information on U.S. naval codes for logging ships, and information pertaining to Project Azorian."

There was silence while Governor Jameson took it all in. Project Azorian was still under investigation, but Jameson had no knowledge of Jayna being involved.

"She lied to me, Paul," Steve said, tearfully. "She lied to me. I don't know what hurts more – that Jayna's gone, or that she lied and kept so many secrets. I thought I knew her." Steve wiped the tears away again. "Just what am I supposed to do now?"

"From what I've seen you and your team do in the past, nothing is impossible." Jameson got up and put his hands on Steve's shoulders, the way he did one week ago, when Jayna disappeared. "You've got to go back to being Steve McGarrett, the tough cop, the top cop. That is why I chose you to head Five-O, because I know you can get the job done. Jayna wouldn't want anything different."

Steve stared out at the full moon. "You know, Paul, Jayna would have told me the same thing."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**I**

It was business as usual at the Ala Wai Harbor. Whatever remnants of a crime scene investigation remained were gone. Five-O and HPD had swept up the last fingerprint and spoken to every witness they could. All that was left was the wharf off which Jayna fell when that unknown gunman shot her, and the two boats that still stood on either side. The black and white Sea Ray Sundancer was still parked one side of the wharf, while a larger blue and white Pacemaker Express Cruiser was docked on the other side. It was from the Sea Ray that the two witnesses saw the shooting and gave the description of the shooter.

The Sea Ray was quiet. No one was walking about on deck and the boat rocked gently in the calm turquoise waters. On the neighboring Pacemaker, though, the owner was polishing the deck and shining the railings. He looked up when he saw Steve and Danno walking down the boardwalk, but quickly went back to his work.

Steve clutched a dozen long-stemmed pink and cream roses. They were Jayna's favorite flowers. He held the bundle tightly, not wanting to let it go. Danno stood by, quietly, looking around as the wind blew past.

Steve slowly removed one rose from the bunch and dropped it into the water, followed by another. His face remained calm and placid though, deep inside, he was in turmoil. That he was able to remain stoic throughout was a common trait of his, to which Danno was no stranger. Steve dropped another rose into the ocean, and then his eyes watered. He clutched onto the remaining roses, his eyes shut tight, and his teeth clenched.

Danno rushed to his side. "Are you all right, Steve?"

"I'm fine, Danno," Steve managed to say. "I just can't take it. I just can't believe she's gone!" Danno expected his boss to burst into tears, but he didn't. Steve opened his eyes and turned to his second-in-command. "If Jayna were dead, I'd know it. I'd feel it. We all would."

"Doc can't be wrong," Danno said. "He matched up the body's teeth with Jayna's dental records. You can't get any more thorough than that."

"I know. That's what bothers me." Steve took another rose and threw it down. "It's all too convenient. Jayna disappears, two people swear they saw someone shoot her, but her body turns up, then it does. The shooter disappears, and we're left with this mess."

"We can't quit," Danno said. "We can't let Jayna down."

"We're not going to." Steve put his hand on his partner's shoulder.

The footsteps behind them alerted both men, and they whirled around to see a Hawaiian man in a fisherman's cap approach.

"You da police?" he asked, eying them suspiciously.

"Yes, we are." Steve took out his badge and showed it to the man. "I'm Steve McGarrett and this is my partner, Dan Williams. We're from Five-O."

"Yeah. I seen your pictures in the paper," the man replied. He extended his hand. "I'm Bob Mohole. I own this boat." He pointed to the Pacemaker. "I'm sorry about what happened to that lady cop. I wish I could have helped. I wasn't here at that hour."

"You a fisherman?" asked Danno suspiciously.

"Yes, but I didn't get here till after seven that morning. I don't go fishing every day."

"Do you know the couple who own that boat?" Steve asked, pointing to the Sea Ray.

Mohole looked at them, mystified. "Couple? There ain't no couple who owns dat boat. A guy named Bernie Pinto does."

Steve and Danno looked at each other, then back at Mohole.

"Bernie Pinto?" Danno asked. "You don't know anyone named Cindy Brooks or Kevin Sharpe?" Cindy Brooks and Kevin Sharpe were the couple who were on the boat at the time and gave an eyewitness account of the shooting.

Mohole shook his head. "I don't know anybody by those names. Bernie owns the boat, and only he uses it. I got his address. I can give it to you."

"Thank you," Steve said. Mohole rushed off inside the Pacemaker and came out with a piece of paper and handed it to Steve.

"Where was Bernie last Tuesday?" Steve asked.

"He was not here. Dat's all I know," Mohole answered.

**II**

"Cindy Brooks and Kevin Sharpe were both in the county jail until last Monday," Duke Lukela told Steve. They were in on separate charges and were brought in at different times by different officers. Sharpe was arrested for drug possession. Brooks was in for disorderly conduct and assault. She got drunk and attacked a bar patron. There's no evidence that either knew each other. They were different parts of the city. Sharpe was originally from California. He had been in Hawaii only six months."

"And yet they were living on a boat together last Tuesday morning, a boat whose owner swears to us that he never rented out to anyone." Steve pointed. "Bernie Pinto said he'd never heard of either Brooks or Sharpe before, and no one was supposed to be on his boat at that time."

"And now they've vanished as well." Danno laced his fingers and twirled his thumbs. "When we checked the address they gave us last week, they were gone. The landlady said she had never heard of them, either."

Steve wiped his forehead. "This case is getting more complicated every minute."

"It gets better," Duke added. "When I checked with HPD, they said were bailed out by the same person: a man in a suit and tie. He said he was a lawyer by the name of Gerald Krieger. Brooks and Sharpe could not make bail on their own, and did not have lawyers. Their hearings were coming up, but when I checked with Judge Phillips, he said they were granted probation. He didn't say more, but it sounds fishy."

"Fishier than Young's Fish Market," Steve replied. "Duke, I want the Sea Ray searched for fingerprints. It may not be too late. Go to John and see if he can get a search warrant. Whatever prints you find, get them over to Che as soon as possible. Danno, we're going to find out more about Gerald Krieger."

**III**

The sun was starting to set over Honolulu, and Patrick Geller was shuffling his way along. His identity as Louis Palani was long-since gone, and the dyed black hair was back to its natural chestnut shade. The tan was fading, after several days indoors, and Geller was starting to resemble his European ancestry again. He hurried to the hotel – modest place into which he checked in as per Norton's instructions after he ended his cover as Palani – and headed to his room. Once inside, he picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Hello? … This is Geller. … They found the body. … No, you don't anything yet. … Just sit tight for a few days. They'll bury her on Monday. You can keep track of everything from TV, radio, and the newspapers. Jayna Berringer's funeral will be front page news as much as her shooting was. … Yes, I'll call you with the next set of instructions. … Don't worry about McGarrett and the rest of them. Norton will take care of them. … Trust me. They're in good hands. The grief is only temporary. … Okay? … Okay then. Thanks. … Bye."

Geller put the receiver down and went to the window. He could see the building where Izabella Reznikova – the Ice Angel – lived. There were, indeed, many more good reasons for Norton choosing this hotel than the price. Geller would need a telescope to actually see Izabella enter or exit, but it wasn't his job to do any far-away surveillance. He had someone closer by to do just that.

**IV**

Gerald Krieger was one of Hawaii's most prominent attorneys. Steve had been cross-examined by him in court on many an occasion, and despite Krieger's relentless crusade to find his clients not guilty, Steve could not find any fault with the man. There was no indication that Krieger was involved in any dishonest dealings, and Steve never had reason to think so, but this latest turn of events had him questioning everyone and everything.

"Steve, my reasons for bailing out Brooks and Sharpe were purely legitimate," he insisted.

"Don't hand me the pro bono line," Steve said, looking into Krieger's eyes. "You would never waste your time with a drug possession and a disorderly conduct charge. Who put you up to it?" Steve was not going to back down.

For a split second, he could see fear in Krieger's eyes, but it quickly disappeared. Krieger's hand shook, the red fountain pen jiggling so its shiny tip oscillated like a flickering light. Steve had him.

"No one put me up to it," he denied. "I got a man didn't say who he was."

"And did you know Brooks or Sharpe from before?" Steve asked.

"No …" Krieger shook his head.

"Gerald, level with me," Steve pleaded. "This is very important and could help us solve a case. No one would call you or any lawyer out of the blue and ask you to arrange bail money for two people who did not hire you, and that too for such lesser offenses than you normally take on, and the fact that Judge Phillips put both of them on probation and they are no nowhere to be found makes it even fishier. You're not helping yourself by keeping quiet."

"If I knew any more, Steve, I'd tell you," Krieger said. "The voice on the phone was a man's. It was deep and authoritative."

"If you heard it again, would you recognize it?" Steve asked.

"I think so."

Steve turned and went towards the door. "I'll be in touch," he called. Krieger could breathe a sigh of relief, but he was still shaking inside.

**V**

Judge Phillips rubbed his forehead and ran his hand through his wavy salt and pepper hair. He removed his thick-framed glasses and twirled them.

"It was a first offense for both of them," he told Danno. "They each promised not to do such things again."

"Did you have their hearings at the same time?" Danno asked.

"Of course not," Judge Phillips said. "They were here on separate charges and neither was involved with the other."

"Yet Gerald Krieger provided bail for both of them, and you granted each of them probation," Danno said with derision. "How you expect me to believe that was a coincidence."

"I don't expect you to believe that," Judge Phillips said, "because you and both I know it was not a coincidence."

"And what else do you know?" Danno asked.

"That these people were let out of jail in time to witness Jayna's shooting, then vanished, suggests there is a lot more going on. I made the decision to grant them probation on my own. Cindy Brooks's hearing was in the morning, and Sharpe's was in the afternoon. They could not have met up before that time. It had to have been afterwards. Someone knew both of them were going to be released – someone in this building. They both plead guilty and I could have sentenced each of them to jail time, then whomever needed two witnessed to Jayna's shooting would have to use someone one else. Neither even had a lawyer. They used public defenders. Where Mr. Krieger came from in all this I don't know."

"Given that Brooks and Sharpe were total strangers to each other before Monday, it does make sense, to some extent," Danno said. "Someone needed two witnesses to be on that boat on Tuesday Morning to see Jayna get shot, and they got them."

"I'm going to need a background check on all the courthouse employees," Danno advised.

"You got it," Judge Phillips said.

**VI**

"Confirmation from Che, Steve. Those prints belong to Cindy Brooks and Kevin Sharpe," Danno told his boss. "There's more: they found a thumbprint that belongs to an unidentified person. Che is analyzing it now, and will have results within the next day."

"Beautiful," Steve said. "Just beautiful." Danno saw Steve smile for the first time, though it was a faint one. Maybe the Steve was slowly returning to his former self. He flitted in and out, and Danno was never sure what mood Steve would be in next. The events of the past twenty-four hours were unlikely to yield any cheerfulness on Steve's part, and his didn't blame him for not smiling. They were not that much happier, either. Nonetheless, Danno had a feeling there was another reason for Steve's small amount of mirth this afternoon, and decided to find out.

"What's going on Steve?" he asked. "Did you find out something from Krieger?"

"That someone is covering up," Steve said. "They have tried very hard to make us believe there was a shooting, even going as far as to create witnesses. Gerald Krieger told me he was told to send a bondsman to bail out Brooks and Sharpe. He was not told why and the person who called him didn't give their name. Krieger is not dishonest, and he would not withhold information. I got the feeling he was uncomfortable. There was something bothering him to the point of fear. Have Ken do a background check on him."

"Will do," Danno replied. "You think there's something Krieger doesn't want anyone to know?"

"Someone knows it," Steve said "otherwise they would not have gotten Krieger to do their bidding."

**VII**

Gerald Krieger was panicking. He could not concentrate since Steve left. McGarrett was persistent. He would not stop until he found out the information he needed. _He'll find out, then I'm finished! _

Krieger paced up and down his office, his feet making deeper imprints in the carpet. The telephone rang, and he went to pick it up.

"Hello? … Yes, yes, he was here! … No, I didn't tell him anything. … I just told him that I don't know anything about it. … He didn't buy it, but he left after I told him. … Just leave me out of this. I did what you wanted … Yes, yes. Good-bye!" He slammed down the receiver. Krieger took a handkerchief form his pocket and wiped his sweaty forehead.

**VII**

Geller could hear his heart pound like a jackhammer. Though he had not spoken to Norton yet, he had a good idea of what his boss would tell him. It was the part of his job that he hated. Norton entered the office from a back door. His face was expressionless and he walked in swiftly.

"What is it, Pat?" he asked.

"Steve McGarrett is getting too close," Geller said. "He went after Krieger and he and Williams were snooping around Pinto's boat this morning. They had the forensics team searching the place."

"They won't find anything," Norton replied, "except Brooks and Sharpe's fingerprints, and they were on the boat, and told Five-O they witnessed the shooting. They're gone, and Five-O won't find them. They did their job."

"But they'll no something is up when they find out those people didn't own that boat and Opata didn't know them," Geller said, his nervousness more evident.

"All they'll get are dead ends," Norton assured him. "And you can't do much with dead ends. With Krieger, though, Steve could easily make him break. Given what we know. See if you can 'delay' McGarrett a bit … nothing too harmful, but enough to keep off our trail for a while."

Geller was still queasy inside. He knew what "delaying" meant. He slowly nodded. "All right, Phil, but just this once. Don't ever ask me to do this again."

Norton lowered his eyebrows in a dubious glance. "I can't promise there won't be a next time," he said.

**VII**

Steve pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building and parked by the concrete fence that overlooked Ala Wai Boulevard. He got out, locked the car door, and carried his briefcase in his left hand with the evening newspaper tucked under his right arm. He walked briskly into the parking lot under the building, towards the elevator. It was a few seconds before he noticed the car coming towards him.

It was not slowing down. It came at a steady pace, but fast. There were two men inside, staring at him expressionlessly. Steve froze in fear, wanting to turn back and run, but stood rooted still. It was that reflex action that tells you stay where you are, a holdover from millions of years when humans' biggest fears were wild animals that would attack at the slightest movement, and standing still was the best way not to attract their attention.

Steve bolted. He turned and dove between two parked cars. The speeding car proceeded down the aisle. He got to his feet and ran to the aisle on the other side. The car swerved and came back around the corner of the last cars parked in that section. Steve could make out it was a blue Chevy. He turned and ran back to the other side where he had been walking before. He darted to another cluster of parked cars, and tried to quickly make his next move. The blue Chevy was not giving up. Steve kept running. Regardless, there was no way the car could overtake him in this confined space. He ran out, towards the nearest exit. The Chevy was hot on his trail.

Steve was puffing and panting, his heart pounding. _Who were they? What are they after? _The Chevy seemed to slow down, but Steve was not about to do the same. He kept running, the exit looking like it was miles away rather than only a few yards. That was when a second car zoomed out from a parking space as he ran past. Steve felt a ton of tin ram into him. He flew three yards to his left, landing on his left side on the gravel. He gasped out in pain, shivering, clenching his teeth, his head spinning. _Is this the end? Is this how it's going to end?_ _Who are they? What do they want from me?_ The thoughts whirled around in his mind as Steve heard footsteps approaching. His legs hurt, and he was afraid to get up. Those footsteps could belong to his attackers, looking to finish what they started. Steve would not find out just then, because his consciousness could not hold out any longer. He closed his eyes, seeing a black fuzzy curtain come down on him.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**I**

The headline read "Five-O Man in Near-Fatal Hit-and-Run." The subheading read, "Doctors Say McGarrett's Condition Critical but Stable." Despite jumping out at him in thick, black Bureau Grot font, Danno still could not believe what he read.

"Were you able to speak to Steve?" Manicote asked.

"When I got to the hospital, he was awake. They were taking him in to the examination room. He told me that a Blue Chevy was chasing him. When he tried to get away, another car sped out of its parking spot and hit him. He didn't see the second car."

"Did anyone see the accident?" Manicote asked.

"Some did. HPD is questioning them. They saw the blue Chevy speeding out of the parking lot, but did not get a look at the people inside. Steve told me there were two men in it. Someone got a partial license plate number. Duke is running it down." Danno could feel his heart racing. He was worried about Steve, naturally.

"What about the car that hit Steve?" Manicote asked, trying to maintain control in his voice. He could see Danny was on edge, and didn't want to find himself losing his composure, either.

"That's the strange part, John," Danno replied. "The car turned and sped off as well. It was a red or maroon Chevy Nova, as one witness said. The driver didn't even stop to check on Steve. They just drove off. It was as though they didn't care, like they didn't see him at all. There's no doubt this is a coincidence.

"One car chases him and another hits him. It's like the second car was providing backup." He pointed a slender finger at Danno. "Did anyone see the driver?"

"One witness said it was a woman. Another said it was a man," Danno respond, tiredly. "You know the story."

Manicote nodded sadly. "We may still get somewhere with the car," he suggested.

"HPD is on it," Danno said. "It will just take time."

"And time is something we haven't got much of," Manicote said. He put the cap on his pen and set it down. "First Jayna disappears and turns up dead, then Prather blackmails Haynes, then someone tries to run over Steve in his own home. This is about more than a gangster trying to stay out of jail."

"Prather swears he had nothing to do with the hit-and-run," Danno replied. "I don't know whether to believe him or not. He swore to it up and down. None of his employees drives a blue Chevy of any model, and though one does drive a red Nova, her alibi for the time of accident is airtight. She was at work, and her car was in the parking lot at her workplace. There was no damage to the front bumper."

Manicote sighed. "First Jayna dies, and now this."

"There might hope, just yet," Danno said, a light going on in his head. "We made a breakthrough in Jayna's murder case." He told Manicote about Cindy Brooks, Kevin Sharpe, and Gerald Krieger.

Manicote was stunned. "Gerald Krieger?" he said. "He's one of the most respected attorneys in Honolulu. He's as clean as they come. I hope you have evidence."

"I certainly do," Danno shot back. "Krieger was hiding something. Steve was certain of it. His instinct never fails."

"While I admire your loyalty, Danny, you can't use instinct as evidence. What did you find out about Krieger?"

Danno took a deep breath, then said, "Krieger was with the Judge Advocate General for several years, overlapping with when Steve was in naval intelligence. They worked on some cases together. That didn't tell us anything off the bat, but then we dug further, and found out that Krieger sometimes takes on freelance intelligence assignments for Uncle Sam."

If a pin could be heard dropping in that room, this was the moment. Neither man said a word. Manicote stared at Danno as though he had never seen him before.

"Freelance intelligence assignments?" Manicote repeated. "That would not be in any old personnel file."

"It wasn't, but we found out nonetheless."

"Did Ken find that out himself?"

"No, but his bank account had several more zeroes in it than he would normally get on a civilian attorney's salary, and the deposits all came from the State Department. We checked it out with some sources of Steve's, and they confirmed that the State Department's Intelligence division sent him those checks."

Manicote shook his head and clasped his hands to the sides of his forehead. "That means the person or people behind this are placed so highly, we can't touch them. Does Steve know about this?"

"No. I found this out after I saw him at the hospital," Danno answered.

Manicote picked up the phone. "Krieger is going to tell us everything," the district attorney said.

**II**

Steve opened his eyes. The room was a light blue and cream blur at first, then it came into sharper focus. The hospital room's walls were light blue, and the curtains on the windows were cream. Steve looked around, taking into account the bedside table, the desk opposite the bed, the cream and blue armchair where a uniformed HPD officer sat.

"Hello, Mr. McGarrett," he said, his voice shook and his face was solemn.

"Hello," Steve said groggily. His head hurt, and he could feel the bandage pressed to the left side of his forehead. His left wrist and right ankle were also wrapped in casts. The pain was minimal, but the discomfort was high. Steve was still feeling weak.

"Try to save your strength, Mr. McGarrett," the young officer said, approaching the bed. Steve could see the officer's name tag read "Mortenson." He was in his early twenties, maybe fresh out of the academy. He was slender with thick dark blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Mortenson, is that it?" Steve asked.

"Yes, sir," Mortenson replied.

"What day is it?" Steve asked.

"It's Thursday, May 21st," Mortenson answered. "It's a three minutes after two p.m."

"What happened?" Steve asked. "All I remember is hitting the ground … a car coming …"

"You were hit by a car, sir," Mortenson said, helping Steve to sit up. "There was another car chasing you. They both got away. Five-O is looking for them."

"And they have you here to guard me?" Steve said, more as a statement than a question.

Mortenson nodded. "There are two more outside," he said. Steve leaned back into the plush pillow. "They must really want me dead."

**III**

"We know you didn't just decided to post bail for those people, Gerald," Manicote said. "We know you worked with Steve when you were with JAG, and that the state department called on you to do some work for them after you left the navy. … Gerald, I am asking you, begging you, to please tell us what you know. Jayna Berringer is dead, and Steve McGarrett was nearly killed. How much higher is the death toll going to rise?"

Krieger closed his eyes tightly, then opened them. "John, if I tell you anything, things could get far worse. They will kill me next." He clenched his fists as he paced up and down the room. "Once someone works for Intelligence, they can never leave."

"It's safe to talk here," Manicote urged him. "This office was checked out thoroughly. No one can hear what we say."

"Even then, they'll know. They have ways of finding out," Krieger countered. "I will tell you this: they wanted that boy and girl to pose as witnesses to the shooting, because it would be easy to get rid of them later. They couldn't touch Bernie Pinto. He's a local and people would miss him. They followed him around and knew his routine. That is how they were able to do this on Tuesday morning, when he wasn't on the boat. They knew he would not be there. He was out of town that week. All I know was to bail those two people out. They didn't tell me anything more. I didn't know a shooting was going to take place."

"So you mean Cindy Brooks and Kevin Sharpe are dead?" Manicote asked.

"Either that, or they have changed their names and are in hiding," Krieger said. "It was all to make things look like they were real, when they were not."

"Then was Jayna really murdered?" Manicote asked. "Steve and Danno identified her body, and her dentist confirmed it was her through dental records. There can be no question about it."

"I don't know about that," Krieger said. "They are not about to let us know more than we should. It's dangerous enough for me to know what little I do. If you found a body and it was positively identified as Jayna's, then it has to be her. It's not easy to fake a dead body. I can't tell you anything on that, and it would be dangerous to even go there."

"I need names, Gerald," Manicote pleaded. "We need to know who is behind this."

"If you want names, then start with Jayna herself, and everyone who worked with her in Intelligence," Krieger answered. "They're all in on it."

**IV**

"That's just great. Spies, spies, and more spies!" Steve shouted as he tried to put on his jacket. Danno helped him pull each sleeve over each arm. Steve winced slightly each time, clenching his teeth, and sighing. "And Krieger was put up to this by Intelligence, which means Jonathan Kaye is in on this."

"And he'll tell you to back off," Danno said. "He'll say that this doesn't concern you when it does." He pulled the sleeve over Steve's right arm and straightened out the back of collar.

"We'll just see about that!" Steve picked up the overnight bag Danno brought for him the previous evening and handed it to Officer Mortenson, who took it outside. Another policeman came in with a wheelchair and Steve sat in it.

"Jonathan Kaye knows that when I'm onto something, I don't stop till I get to the bottom of it," Steve told Danno as the policeman pushed the wheelchair down the hallway.

"Just what story can he tell you to keep you satisfied?" Danno asked.

"There isn't one," Steve told him. "He'll have to tell me the truth, continue to be tight-lipped, or even lie." Steve waved good-bye to the nurses at the front desk.

"I get a feeling that we're better off not knowing," Danno said, overtaken by a sense of foreboding.

They went through the parking lot and to Danno's green LTD. Steve got out of the wheelchair and eased his way into the passenger seat. He and Danny thanked the policeman who pushed the wheelchair away and went back to the hospital to return it. Danno got it and started the engine.

"We can't stop here," Steve said. "They had Jayna killed and they tried to kill me. Who'll be next?"

"All of us, if you make Jonathan nervous enough with too many questions," Danno answered.

"He won't risk eliminating all of us. There will be way too many questions then. Besides, that car that hit me didn't do enough damage to kill me, and it could have. It's as though they just wanted to injure me, to scare me off. What secret could be worth killing so many?" Steve raised an eyebrow at his second-in-command. Danno shot back a wide-eyed, quizzical face.

"Krieger said to check back in Jayna's file," he said, "and we both know what she did before she joined Five-O."

"And she promised it was all over." Steve looked away, closing his eyes and wincing. "Maybe she was forced into it like Krieger. Only, what did they hold over head?"

Danno shuddered at the thought but, knowing how Jayna cared for Steve, he had only one possible answer, which he did not dare say out loud.

"Then what's our next move?" he asked.

"We go to Phil Norton. He knows all about Jayna's work with Intelligence, more than what is in her personnel file which we studied front and back. He has to talk to us now. If he doesn't, I'll make him wish he never set foot in Hawaii," Steve replied, a cunning gleam shining in his blue eyes. That signaled to Danno that his boss was back in action.


End file.
